


You Should Have Listened EV

by OwlAlly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Cutting, Depression, Evil Theo, F/M, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Major Character Injury, PTSD Stiles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Derek, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scott is a Bad Friend, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Stiles Feels, Stiles Needs a Hug, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, The Pack Being Idiots, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlAlly/pseuds/OwlAlly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stile's secret is out. He killed Donovan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CONSEQUENCES

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [You Should Have Listened](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591095) by [OwlAlly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlAlly/pseuds/OwlAlly). 



> okay, so this fic is the translation of my other fic (same name) and since english isn't my mother tongue, and no one read it before, it may containt mistakes, so signal them so that I can correct them please ! :)  
> I'll try to uptdate as soon as possible, considering that I am two chapters late from the original french fic and that this one isn't finished yet either. also, the school has begun again...  
> Anyway ! I hope you guys enjoy it, any kudos and comments are welcomed. See you soon ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stile's secret is out. He killed Donovan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this fic is the translation of my other fic (same name, figures) and since english isn't my mother tongue, and no one read it before, it may contain mistakes, so signal them so that I can correct them please ! :)  
> I'll try to uptdate as soon as possible, considering that I am two chapters late from the original french fic and that this one isn't finished yet either. also, the school has begun again...  
> Anyway ! I hope you guys enjoy it, any kudos and comments are welcomed. See you soon ;)

"Scott !" Stiles calls, as his best friend turns away from him.

"Scott, wait, I can explain everything!" He begs.

But Scott doesn't turn away. He leaves Stiles's bedroom, followed by Liam, Hayden and Mason. Only Lydia and Theo remain in the room. The silence is heavy, and it takes several seconds before Lydia breaks it.

"You should have told us earlier. "She says reproachfully.

Stiles opens his mouth. He wants to say that he’s sorry, explain that he regrets, but she doesn’t leave him time, shaking her and leaving the room too, with a disappointed and sad look. It was worse than what Stiles had imagined. His father had made the connection between the body found in the library, Stile’s badge, and had found nothing better than questionning Scott. Who hastened to ask for explanations in font of the pack, despite the absence of Malia, who was paying a visit to Deaton. Stiles had had no choice but to admit that yes, he had killed Donovan. Because that was what he did wasn’t it? It diddn’t mattered if it was "self-defense". Because the facts were there. Donovan was dead. And it was his fault. He had not wished for it. He had reacted by panic, had barely thought when detaching the steel bars. And when he had turned around, when he had seen Donovan's chest pierced, his body arched as a disarticulated doll, a grotesque puppet whose stings had been cutted, he was relieved. And when, despite everything, he had tried to help him, despite the evidence of his slim chances of survival, and Donovan had uttered a last gasp before his body suddenly went limp, almost violently, he had thought one thing: "good." Good. He's dead, I am alive, who won huh?

But he had quickly stopped himself, horrified. He wasn’t delighted by his death. No. He was just relieved not to have suffered the fate Donovan reserved  him. He hadn’t became like the Nogitsune. Would not, could not, should not be delighted by someone’s death, even if that someone was trying to eat him alive. It wasn’t right. It was against his principles, his education. And he knew that Scott would not approve it. And he doesn’t want to lose Scott. It was his brother, his friend. And since Malia had broken up with him, he felt like he didn’t have anyone beside him. Lydia had rejected him, and even if they were more or less friends, it was simply because they were part of Scott’s pack. He had no links with Kira, not yet, and anyway, she was gone. Liam was Scott‘s beta, not his friend. And Stiles knew, he knew he was with the pack only because Scott was his friend. But now ? Stiles turned to Theo. He looks furious and scowls:

"What did I told you? He would and will never accept this kind of thing. Now get lost, get the fuck out of my house, and be carefull that I don’t go and tell him that you killed a chimera as well! "

Stiles didn’t meant that. He knows very well that Donovan's death is his fault, but he also knows that Theo was there that night and that he didn’t helped him. Theo's eyes narrow and he moves closer to Stiles, almost threatening him.

"I didn’t denounced you. If you denounce me, it would be sheer wickedness. I helped Scott finding Liam and Hayden, and thanks to that the pack accepted me. You do not have the right to ruin my efforts, when I’ve done nothing to harm you. "

Stiles breathes in, and crosses his arms. He dislikes him, oh god, he hates him even, but he wasn’t wrong. Stiles knows it, and cannot answer anything.

" You are jealous. Theo added. You're jealous because Scott trusts me, because of my situation with the pack, the fact that they love me more than you. Spits Theo. You're pathetic. "

And he goes away. Without a word, he doesn’t even close the door. Stiles hears him leaving the house a few seconds later, and he releases a breath he didn’t realised holding. He collapses on his carpet, and surrounds his knees with his arms. He tries not to think, not to let the knot that laces his chest compress also his throat, but he knows. He knows that Theo is right. Because he’s only a pathetic, weak and incapable human. He couldn’t prevent the possession by Nogitsune, failed to keep his girlfriend, was not strong enough to fight without killing Donovan. He is always the one to save. Even Lydia became stronger, whereas she was the one they had to protect before. He couldn’t archieve that. He doesn’t have any strenght. He is the lowest. He insn't like Scott. He doesn’t have many friends or people who would be willing to die for him if they had to, doesn’t have enough strength to allow himself to have a generous and forgiving heart. He is only a pathetic human being, lost in selfish feelings who plays sheriff, has if he had the capacities. Stiles doesn’t allow himself to cry. He doesn’t want to. He gets up and lies in his bed, his heart in pieces. Will Scott at least let him explain himself, apologize ? Will  the others continue to talk to him? These question loop in his head, and he only falls asleep when the sun rises.

***

When Stiles arrives at school, he has a terrible headache. His eyes burns. He has slept only two hours and stress makes him want to vomit. When he stops at the lockers, he hasn’t seen anyome from the pack yet. He takes his stuff and goes to class, eyes pinned to the floor. As he walks to the math class, he spots Malia, outside the front door of the room, waiting him. He looks at her with hope, and approaches without knowing what to say.

"Scott told me everything. She announces in a voice that doesn’t indicates her feelings.

-I Know you, and I do believe that you did it  to defend yourself. You're much too nice to slaughter someone remorselessly.

Stiles feels his heart skip a beat in relief. Finally, someone is on his side.

-I would have done the same, you know, she says in a quiet voice, except that I would have ripped his throat with my fangs.

Stiles shivers.

-I’m not blaming you, but Scott ... She leaves the sentence float in the air, while Stiles looks over her shoulder. Scott is sitting at his place, his head burried in his notebooks, but Stiles is absolutely certain that he is listening to their conversation.

\- Scott, is.  Malia adds. And he does not want you to approach anyone of the pack. I had to beg him to come  to talk to you. You understand, I do not blame you, but it is my alpha, I can not disobey him. "

Stiles feels like he’s been turned into stone. He doens’t react when Malia touches his cheek and whispers a "goodbye" before hurrying to sit next Theo. He wants to turn around, to run and scream. But the professor saw him, and ordered him to sit down. So he obeys mechanically, completely numb. When he passes by his friends-  his old friends apparently- none looked at him. Nothing. They do not react. And they don’t change their behavior throughout the day. He crosses Liam, Hayden and Mason later in the morning and no one pretends to notice his presence. At lunch, Stiles barely eats, alone, and returns to class. The afternoon passesby and Stiles await the end of the school to try to talk to Scott. He finds him on the parking lot, surrounded by Lydia and Liam, who throw him reproachful looks.

"Scott, let me explain ! "He asks. He calls several times, and when he tries to touch Scott’s shoulder, the latter turns violently, his eyes shining a dim red light.

\- There's nothing to explain. he says, and it's almost a growl that comes out from between her lips.

\- You killed him or not?

Stiles jumps, looking hurt.

-Yes, he blows, but ...

Scott interrupted him.

 -But nothing. You killed him when I told you that I wanted to save them. I do not know who you think you are Stiles, but you're certainly not a hero. You acts as Peter would have, and I do not approve it at all. We are not monsters, we do not kill our enemies. I'm not friends with murderers. Go away. "Scott spits furiously, but he’s the one who leaves first, leaving Stiles alone.

**********************

When Stiles goes home, it’s under pouring rain. He’s in a state of shock, barely aware of what surrounds him. When he parks his jeep in front of his house, he doesn’t notice his father’s car, and he is startled when the sheriff catches him in the entrance.

" We need to talk. He announces.

He goes to the living room in the living room, not even bothering to check if his son follows him. When Stiles sits down, his father takes a deep breath.

-I Received a phone call from Scott. Stiles felt his heart fall into his chest. He told me everything.

-Dad, I ... Stiles begins, but his father raises his hand.

-I Tried to educate you properly, despite the death of your mother. I know that I worked hard, and I didn’t always had time for you, but I never thought that one day my own son would become a murderer.

Stiles feels like the house just collapsed on his head.

-Dad, I ... I tried to defend myself, I ...

-To Defend one-self doesn’t require to kill his opponent Stiles. The Sheriff pinches his nose. More than words, it’s his disappointed and disgusted facial expression that breaks Stiles.

-Dad, I ...

-Don’t call me that. The sheriff rumbles.

Stiles opens his mouth. All the air escapes from his lungs as if he had taken a punch.

-I'm not going to denonciate you, I'll cover you up. God knows it costs me, but I'll do it out of respect for the memory of your mother, because she would not have supported the idea of her son’life –if you really deserves to be called her son- to begin in jail. But when you’ll reach the legal age, I want you to leave this house. Now, go to your room. "

Stiles doesn’t even have the strength to protest. He gets up and climbs the stairs in a daze. He doesn’t realize what just happened. He doesn’t feel the tears dripping down his cheeks. He opens the door of his room and closes it smoothly. He sits on the edge of his bed and stay still. He lets the sobs shake his body, without rolling into a ball, just sitting in the dark, teeth chewing his lips in an attempt to keep any sound from coming out. He doesn’t understand. He might replay the day countless times in his head, he doesn’t understand how his life could take such a turn in ten hours. He spends the night in the same position, falling asleep only because fatigue catches him up at some time.

*************

The following morning, his father refuses to address him a look. Stiles must clench his teeth not to burst into tears in front of his bowl of cereal. At school, nobody talks to him. Not even the players of the lacrosse team. Not even Danny, who gives him a dirty look. Stiles concludes after a moment that Scott have spread false rumors, because many strudents keep whispering furiously as he walks trough the corridores. Stiles doesn’t understand. How Scott came from to his best friend to his bully in one day? First pack, then his father, and now the whole school. Stiles barely survives the day.

And he feels like diying the following one. A month passes by, a month during which the person he loves most completely ignore his existence, and others hate it. Stiles hardly eats. He was already thin. He becomes skinny. He walks head always lowered, not daring to cross anyone's eyes. He leaves the lacrosse team, when he realizes that the players are becoming more and more violent with him.

At night he howls in his pillow, wishing with all his might to wake up from this nightmare. He tries to talk to Scott. Many times. Scott ends up pushing him against a wall, yelling at  him to never approach him again. His father doesn’t speak to him, doesn’t prepare his meals, acts as if he never had a son. Stiles even remarks one day that all the pictures showing him were missing from their frames. He barely manages to maintain acceptable grades. He doesn’t sleep, not without the help of sleeping pills anyway. It takes a month. A month of loneliness and suffering.

And after a month, he breaks. He had met his father returning home, his father who was drinking again, and seemed completely passed out cold, slumped on the couch. When Stiles had crossed the room, the Sheriff had seized his still full glass of whiskey and threw it with all his strength on his son. Stiles barely had time to dodge the projectile, which had crashed against the wall and broke into pieces, covering Stiles of alcohol and scrapes. He had risen, and had watched his father with a mixture of disbelief and terror. But the Sheriff had sat down, and hadn’t casted him a single glance. It was as if he'd just throw a ball to a dog. Stiles had felt the tears start to flow, and he had run back to his room.

And now, there he was, lying on his bed, exhausted, dejected. The sobs had tore his tired body, but they finally stopped. Not his pain.A Dull pain, self-loathing tainted one, that spread throughout his body. It growled like a stormy sea, submerging Stiles. He was drowning in it since a month. He was suffocating. He wanted it to stop. He was tired. Then he gets up, staggering, and flickers to the bathroom. He finds, searching,  a long razor blade. He fixes it long enough for his tired vision to become blurry. He should have let Donovan kill him, he thinks. He should have let him slaughter him, eat him halfly, left to drain his blood on the floor. Anything rather than the hell in which he was plunged. It was probably what Scott would have preferred. Stiles death. For him to disappear, Stiles the pathetic and weak human that always put himself in Scott’s way.

He thinks about what Lydia told him : "You should have told us earlier. "

About what Theo told him : " You are jealous ".

About what Scott told him : "We are not monsters, we do not kill our enemies. I'm not friends with murderers. "

About what his father told him: "I never thought that one day my own son would become a murderer."

When he opens his eyes again,  four bloody gashes are carved on his arms and his blood flows in long red streaks. And suddenly, the pain disappears. Stiles learns how to breathe again. His vision focuses on his mangled  arm, and he can only feel the burn of the four lines. The pain is sharp and clear. Precise, centered in only one point. And Stiles  breathes. He grabs a cloth, wraps it around his arm. He returns to his room, collapses on his bed. He is tired. He closes his eyes and lets sleep take him away, until the next nightmare.


	2. MISSING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again ~ I did this chapter very quickly, so there might have even more mistakes ( and it's 22:28 and In have school tomorrow so I'll correct them later but do signal them please ;) )  
> a warning though, this chapter is violent and ugly, so be carefull (and watch the tags)  
> I may not translate the third chapter tomorrow, but i'll do it as fast as i can ! but after that i'll have to continue the french ones before we make it any further^^  
> the plot is pratically settled, but if you have any ideas, i'm willing to listen to them ^^  
> Good night everyone, i'll see you soon !

Stiles wakes up with a dull pain in the arm. He gets up with a grunt and goes to the bathroom. The cloth he used as a bandage is impregnated with blood and the skin has healed with the tissue. He is obliged to tear it, and with a grunt of pain, correctly strip the bright flesh with clea bandages. He does not want it to reopen during classes. He dresses, grabs his bag and goes downstairs.

The Sheriff's in the kitchen with a cup in hand and a toast in the other. He doesn’t look up as Stiles walks in the room and the teenager bites his lip to keep from crying. What can he do ? For over a month he tried to apologize. To explain. But no one will listen. Worse, they all refuse to let him speak. And he tried with everybody. Scott, Liam, Hayden, Mason... Malia had told him she didn’t blame him, but she still refuses to talk to him. Stiles thought Lydia would at least be willing to listen, but he was wrong ... She was walking pass him in the corridors and deliberately acted as if he didn’t existed, as she did before the transformation of Scott. She was the one he felt the closest to after Scott, and she had abandoned him as well. Stiles didn’t dare to talk to Deaton nor Melissa, Scott’s mother. What if they reacted like the Sheriff? If, like everyone else, they did not see what Stiles had done as self defense but as a barbaric murder? Stiles would not stand it.

********************************************************************

Stiles gets out of the last lesson of the day, and is exhausted. He has more and more difficulties to sleep even with sleeping pills. With a sigh, he rubs his arm, where the cuts heal and where more recents ones were still bleeding. It's been almost a month and two weeks that the pack has stopped speaking to him. Stiles feels empty. He has the impression to fade slowly, to die like a fire goes extinct and disappear like dust blown by the wind, particle by particle. He follows the flood of excited students, and reatches his faithful jeep. He puts his bag on the passenger seat, sits and contemplates his steering wheel for a while.

What lessons did he even had today? Was he even in the right class? For him, school was hell. Seeing the pack only a few meters away, every day, with that feeling of helplessnessed despair more and more oppressive until the final bell rang was torture. He felt that his throat was squeezed in a vice, that his belly was writhing on himself, and he was constantly nervous, tense and tearful. But he was starting to go numb. These emotions disappeared leaving only a dull ache, almost in the background of his head, and he sank into a vegetative state, his eyes fixed on the wall, the mind completely blank. Even his ADHD and hyperactivity seemed to disappear. Maybe it was because he tripled his medecine doses.

He swallows hard and wakes up from his torpor. Almost all the students were gone, and the remaining cars certainly belonged to those of the lacrosse team and facility staff. Stiles turns the key in the ignition, and the second he hears the engine’s noise, he knows he can not fix this one. The battery was flat. He needed a charger, cables or a car engine running. He thinks for a second to leave his car there and walk back home. But that wouldn’t repair his car, and he knew that other students wouldn’t help him more the next day. He resolves himself and taking his phone with trembling hands, dials the number of the sheriff.

"Deputy Parrish, Beacon Hills police, How may I help you? Stiles sighs in relief. He knows that his father won’t answer his calls, but if one of his colleagues hands him the phone, he couldn’t refuse.

-huh, He ... Hello Parrish, it’s Stiles, could you hand me my father please? Stiles blurs nervously.

-Ah Stiles ! How long has it been ? How are you? I’ll go search him, wait! Stiles suddenly was in tears. It’s been a long time since anybody had asked him such an insignificant question as "how are you ?".

He clears his throat with discomfort and whispers: "Thanks Parrish"

The deputy doesn’t respond but distant voices say that the call hasn’t ended.

The phone sizzles and suddenly Stiles hears a "Hello? "Almost scolded.

Stiles knows that his father is furious. For weeks he refused to speak to him. Stiles daring to call him during his service hours must almost be an affront.

"Hello Da ... er ... I mean, sorry to call you like this but I ... I have a car problem, my battery is dead and ... and I was wondering if ... if uh, well if you could to come and help me to restart it, please." Stiles stammers as he can. He feels sweat dripping down his forehead. He's so nervous. He doesn’t know what to expect. An explosion of anger? Beeing promptly hanged up?

"Please, I don’t know what to do, I would not have called you if I had another solution but ... you ... Can you help me please? " he adds quickly, the growing tension at the other end of the line making him panic.

There is a long silence, one that Stiles doesn’t dare to break this time.

" Fend for yourself. And never call me ... when I'm at work. "The sheriff finally says, and immediately after, a loud beep announces he hung up.

Stiles grabbs the phone for a long moment, the endless echoing ringing in his ear. He knows very well that the sheriff has added the last part of the sentence only because he was in the company of his colleagues.

Stiles recalls himself that he must breathe, and makes a laborious gasps before melting in tears. He does not know how long it takes to his sobs to become muffled gasps, but he finally understands that he can not expect help from anyone. He violently bangs his head against the steering wheel.

Who was he kidding? He thinks bitterly. Of course his father wouldn’t help. Nobody wants to help a murderer. He was a unworthy son. A bad friend. A failed boyfriend, a liar, a nobody. It doesn’t have enough words to describe how much he hates himself and how much he regrets that Donovan didn’t kill him. He screams in rage and sadness. When he has emptied all the air from his lungs, he gets out of the car and opens the hood. He looks at the pathetic pile of scrap his car was and he wonders how he can be so attached to such a broken thing, as useless as that pile of trash.

Perhaps because it is one of his possession that reminds him of the pack. How many times did he drove Scott, Allison, Derek and Lydia where they ordered him to go? He'd have taken them to the end of the world if he had to, because they were important to him. Much more than they thought. And yet, he always considered them has his friends. His family. And he hated himself for ruining it all. Because they were the most beautiful thing that had happened to him since the death of his mother. He would rather die fighting against an enemy than continue to live knowing they hated his guts. He sights softly, and closes the lid.

**********************

Stiles wakes up with a headache that makes him clench his teeth. He opens his eyes and discovers a dark basement, whitch only window doesn’t give enough light for him see his feet. He rises up somehow on the elbows, his head vibrating like a bell. He tries to remember how he got here. He remembers having had car trouble in the parking lot of the school, the refusal of his father to help him, and then opening and closing the hood of the jeep and then ... nothing. He had probably been hit on the head, a vicious blow from behind. Were his agressor the dread doctors? He knew nothing of their recent activities, but had understood they were aiming at people who had two persons DNA. And Stiles knew beeing outside their line of sight, at least on this side. He wants to stand up, and soon realizes that his right foot was chained to the floor. He tries to stand and pulls the heavy chain. He hardly sees anything and bits his lips with all his strength, trying not to give in to a panic attack. He has no idea what time it is or how long he had been unconscious, but he suspects that this was more than a day, because the lack of medication was beginning to be felt. It had increased the doses and now he needed his pills, lacking them enought to begin to tremble and shiver violently.

A creak startles Stiles, and a concealed door in the darkness opens with an agonizing slowness. In embrassure, Theo is up to his full height and smiles at Stiles.

"You! he shouts hoarsely.

Theo shows his teeth.

-Yes. He says with a quiet tone. Stiles Ah! Stiles, Stiles ...

Theo begins to turn slowly around teenager, staring at him with a vicious, mocking gaze.

\- You're the smartest of your comprades. You immediately felt the danger. Is it because of your possession by the Nogitsune or is it due to your detective genes? You are very dangerous Stiles. Vulnerable and weak, but very dangerous. I was very disappointed to learn that you had managed to get rid of the fox. You are no longer of any use to me now ... I don’t really want you in my pack, but as I'm not the alpha, I have no choice but to take extreme measures .. he sneers.

He takes a higher voice:

-Scott oh, it's horrible, Stiles slaughtered Donovan with the tool he uses to repair his jeep!

He smirks and takes his usual voice:

-the coolest thing is that it didn’t take more than that to convince him!

-you bastard ! Stiles screams, enraged, understanding Theo’s plans perfectly.

A moment later, the human is lying on the floor, Theo claws against his throat.

-I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in Stiles. I've watched you these past few weeks, drowning pathetically in your cozy little depression.

He casts a glance at Stiles arm.

-Self-harm, really? More pathetic and laughable than that you die. Besides these scars are horrible and they aren’t about to leave. You are weak, really, I pity you.

-you know nothing. Stiles replicates in cold furry. Nothing at all.

-Quite the contrary in fact, Stiles. You are lost without your friends aren’t you? He pretends to whine:

\- Scott, you're my best friend! Malia I love you so much! Lydia, I am madly in love with you but I’m holding back for your sake! Oh dad, you're the only family I have left! He bursts out in a cruel laugh.

\- I can tell you that you have greatly facilitated my task Stiles. You've given up so fast that you have disappointed me. If you had fought a little more for your friends, you wouldnt probably be in there today. But you’re thinking that it can’t be worse? That you've hit rock bottom? You're wrong.

And with his inhuman strength, Theo tears Stiles shirt, then his trousers to shreds.

Stiles doesn’t react, his mind still clouded by what Theo had spit in his face. He almost thinks he's right. He tried to talk to them, but he could have doubled his efforts. He could have forced them to listen, should have anyway. He wans to cry. He feels so helpless. Theo is right, he is pitiful.

Then Theo takes him out of his boxers, gently this time, murmuring in his ear:

"If ever you are cold ..."

Stiles feels his heart explodes in his chest, and he screams in terror. He had understoods. Theo was gonna rape him. And he knows he can’t prevent it. Stiles loves both gender, but he has never been with a man. His panic blocks all rational thought, and he struggles like a madman, screaming his anguish at the top of his lungs. In vain. Theo pulls violently his arms up, pinning them above his head with one hand. Stiles's body, dragged by Theo reaches the maximal distance the metal chain allowed. It does not break. But Stiles’s ankle does. The cracking of the bones resonates with force and this time Stiles feel like his vocal chords are ripped out of his throat as he yells loudly. Black dots are invading his vision and his eyes roll in their orbit. A violent slap bring him back to reality.

"Stay with me Stiles, baby," whispers Theo.

Stiles moans softly. He feels a warm liquid running down his foot and the pain is excruciating. Theo grabs his mouth, digging his teeth into his lips, violently pushing their tongues against each other in a burst of domination. His free hand, claws out, traces four bloody lines from Stiles’s to his right hip. The human cries against the mouth of the wolf, and he sneers.

He caresses his hip in a movement almost reassuring, but his words are cruel: "If you cry now, what will you do next? "

Stiles sobs. He does not want to beg. His pride forbids him to. His manhood as well. He wants to be strong, would be, but can not. He feels horribly wrong, is in shock, losing blood. Theo’s hands are disgusting. They go down to his sex suddenly grabbing it. Stiles bits his lips.

" Please ! " He lets out accidentally.

He did not wanted to. He didn’t want to beg, but the pain was so strong that he could not restrain himself.

But Theo does not seem to understand it that way.

"Oh really Stiles, you're such little whore? "

He growls, slapping him across the face, his eyes shining and his smile revealing his fangs. He starts masturbating Stiles brutaly, and God, it's painful.

" No ! "

Theo grins. He touches him until he’s hard, despite the desperate efforts of the human. He could not fight against the natural reactions of his body, but the feeling of betrayal was even more bitter.

He wanted to vomit.

Suddenly, Theo pulls him, the movements of the chain making Stiles scream. Theo handcuffs him and attaches the chain connecting his wrists to a hook at ground level. Then he detached his ankle, and Stiles almost faints a second time.

Theo has done all these movements to supernatural speed and it needs only one minute for him to put himself between the legs of the human, which he spreads with force. Stiles’s pan irises to another level and he starts to scream. Theo slowly slids his hands from his penis to his anus and caresses the tender and virgin flesh. Without any warning, he slips a finger in Stiles who screams in pain and terror. Very quickly, Theo inserts a second one, and spread them away from one another. The pain freezes Stiles, mouth opened in a silent scream, a breath blocked in the chest. The sensation is awful, and it feels horribly wrong. He feels torn appart. Theo doesn’t wait for him to adapt, and within seconds, removes his fingers, and is positioned at his entrance. He stops and looks Stiles’s face.

"I want you to ruin Stiles but your death would bring me no benefit ... He whispers, forcing himself inside of Stiles, with deliberate slowness that crucifies the teenager. The bare skin of his arched back raps against the ground, but this is the last pain he’s the less caring about. And his broken ankle is nothing. This suffering, the one that tears him in thousand pieces is the worst he has ever known. It destroyed his body and his mind like a hurricane, leaving only debris behind. When Theo is fully pressed in him, he kisses him forcefully, and Stiles can hardly turn his slips away.

Theo straightens, grabs Stiles’uninjured leg and places it on his shoulder.

"I wanted to destroy you Stiles, to the very moment you put your suspicious eyes on me. I wanted to tear you with my fangs, and at the same time to chain you to my bed. You're probably very happy that I decided to make love to you. " He says, while withdrawing. When he’s almost out, he comes back as fast and hard as he can, and Stiles screams bloddy murder. Each thrust extended the agony he felt. He finally silenced, unable to cry again. His whole being was reduced to pain that radiates from between his legs and diffused to his belly, climbing like a spider along his back, his chest, and explose in his throat. Theo releases himself in Stiles, and when he takes his penis out of him, Stiles isn’t really more relieved. Theo pats his cheek, while Stiles fells into unconsciousness.

Stiles eventually loses track of time. He is in this cave for days. Theo forces him to eat. If he is too dirty, he throws him a bucket of ice water. He grags Stiles from time to time to  relieve his natural needs, in a toilet located in the back of the basement. Stiles is no longer attached. His broken ankle prevents him from walking, and the pain is excruciating. Theo has bandaged  and immobilized it  briefly. When Stiles is not raped, he is beaten up. The first time was because he had spat on Theo, in the face. The wolf had exploded with rage and had thrown him against the wall. He then jumped on him, hitting him with fists and claws until Stiles blacked out. Theo's behavior was random, and it was impossible for Stiles to see in his actions a regular pattern. It seemed that Theo beaten him, raped him or nourished him when he felt like it. Stiles felt like a puppet, manipulated according to the good wishes of the Psycho Theo was. But he did not give up. He struggled and screamed when Theo laid a hand on him, biting or hitting when he could. This made Theo even more violent, and it hurt him a little more each time. Stiles was sure to have one or two broken ribs, dislocated shoulder and a dull pain radiated throughout his body with every movement.

He had no hope of being saved by anyone. Neither the pack nor his father was weary to search for him.

 He hears the creaking door. The damn door, which always announces Stiles Theo comes to hut him.

Theo comes in, holding Stile’s phone. The teen ager understands why he has not bothered to throw it away. Who would want to call him? Theo had done an excellent job.

The latter approach, a crazy smile on his lips.

"You have received a text message from Derek. Who is Derek? The last person on earth that would worry about you? He says with a hysterical giggle.

Stiles is afraid. Theo is crazy. He is not only cruel and violent, He is losing his sanity. And Stiles knows who will pay the price.

-not exactly. He whispers, his voice hoarse from yelling. He is terrorized by the idea of contradicting Theo.

Suddenly, the phone starts ringing, and Stiles recognize the music he associated Derek’s number with. Theo smells the hope emanating from Stiles, and he approaches and extends the phone to the teen on the floor. He tilts his head and smiles.

"I'll make you understand Stiles that  you will never be able to escape from  here.

He grabs Stiles’s hair, and  without warning him he bangs his head against the floor. Stiles sees stars and is seized with a violent nausea, unable to throw anything as his stomach is empty.

Theo picks up the phone and puts it in speaker.

"Hello, Stiles? Derek's voice echoes, distorted by the waves.

Stiles starts crying instantly.

-Derek, Help! he yells.

Theo throws him a blow in the ribs and the human screams in pain. But he is not distracted by the pain that spreads in his chest and continues to call for help, desperate.

Theo disconnects the call and sends his foot in Stiles’s belly.

-You  think he will come and help you? you think anyone will come and help you? Stiles you're alone! they all abandoned you! you're mine ! your life belongs to me! I never let you go! "

Stiles screams in pain, but struggles with new energy: hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember: rape, self harm and self loathing aren't (of course) things i stand for. be safe people :)


	3. AWAKENING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So~ once again, this chapter is violent, WARNING ^^  
> I hurried the hell up believe me, and i hope you appreciate it XD and i'm struggling with the f*cking internet connection, send me positives waves please or i'll @*§$# this *$ù#@ computer :O
> 
> What can I say ? So many kudos and hits and bookmarks and comment in LESS THAN 24 HOURS. I love you guys, seriously <3 I can't thank you enough.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter (there still might have mistakes, let me know) and i'll work on chapter 4 ! see you soon !

Derek glares at  his phone with anxiety. Stiles’s screams of pain and cries for help still ringing in his ears. He was calling Stiles to teel him he was coming back to Beacon Hills, the same way he had callled Scott a few seconds earlier, and the latter hadn’t talked about any particular problem except from the huge mess made of chimeras and doctor, and a new beta, if Derek had understood correctly. Maybe Scott doesn’t know that Stiles is in trouble? Something was wrong. He restarts the car he had stopped on the side road to make his calls and tries to reach Scott again. He gets his voicemail at least five times before giving up and calling Malia. The were-coyote responds almost immediately.

"Hello? Derek?

Derek hears her calm tone and gets that she doesn’t know anything either.

-Stiles In trouble! He urges her. What was he doing the last time you saw him? where was he ?

-uh oh ... hesitates Malia. Listen Derek, things have changed since you left and uh .. I broke up with Stiles and ...  He no longer is part of the pack, to tell you everything so ... I don’t know.

-What ? and Scott allowed that?

-He ‘s the one who banished him. Malia murmurs, so low that if Derek didn’t have wolf ears wolf, he wouldn’t have heard.

-What happened ? Derek doesn’t understand. He had always thought of Scott and Stiles as two inseparable puppies. He pulls himself together.

-Whatever, we still have to help him, warns Scott and the rest of the pack that I want to see them! Pack meeting at the McCalls house. I’m arriving at Beacon Hills in an hour and a half.

He hears Malia letting out a worried sigh.

'I'll do what I can but Derek ... She lets out a second sigh. See ya.

She hangs up, and Derek tries not to panic. He had never particularly liked Stiles, who he finds noisy and annoying, but the human had saved his life several times, and he was not going to give him up, pack or not. He increases his speed, praying not to cross the road of any police officer, because he was going fast enough to win a little vacation to jail. He prays especially for the police, because he would not let anyone come in between him and Stiles, even it it was a certain real-alpha-Scott McCall.

He hadn’t expected that his return to his hometown would happen this way. He had broken up with Braden, and had no reason to continue to hunt the desert wolf with her. She was doing very well on her own. Once they were gone, they had left the pack in Mexico, Derek had noticed that things were no longer right between them. Something was off. Something was missing. They had felt it both but had tried to close their eyes until the problem disapeared by itself. Stiles's way to deal. But the problem had not disappeared, and they had decided to say goodbye to each other rather than ending up hurt.

Derek knew that the problem was him. Was it because the pack was missing? Yet he knew that it shouldn’t have had any influence in his couple. Maybe Braden was simply not the right person for him. Peter had told him one day that those who were born-wolves had a special person, a kind of a soul-mate somehow. Derek hadn’t believed him, but each time he had a girlfriend, it always ended tragically, or it simply did not work. And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it was impossible, he saw no other explanation.

He arrives in Beacon Hills three quarters of hour later, and drives the McCall’s house. He appreciates that the pack was already here, despite the atmosphere of suspicion and anger and feels relieved. A Beta Derek doesn’t know hands him a glass of water,  which he swallows in one gulp before asking:

-you’re Scott’s new Beta?

The teenager smils and Derek frowns. His wolf doesn’t like him, and he wants to aim for the throat. Derek contains himself. He wasn’t a cub.

-Scott didn’t bit me. answers the suspect Beta.

-He bit me. says a voice. You're the Scott’s previous Alpha right?

Derek discovers a young boy, no older than Scott when he had received the bite.

-I'm Liam. Here’s Theo, Hayden and Mason. He said, pointing the at the people.

Derek was full of questions, including "why is that this girl a chimera and what the fuck is she doing here ??? "But he has no time, and turns to Scott:

-We have to help Stiles.

The pack growl in unison, except the humans and Malia, who looks away.

-He Can take care of himself. Scott grumbles.

-but why ? Derek feels  his anger and confusion rise, and clenches his fists. I thought he was your best friend! You don’t care if  he’s dead or alive ? Derek growls.

-he killed a chimera! When he knew that I wanted to save them!

The former alpha looks at the new one, surprised.

-Stiles Would never do that. It's not his way to deal with things.

-And yet it did! he murdered it! I can not accept such acts, not by the members of my pack!

-Why would he do such a thing? Derek gets upset.

Scott takes a deep breath, trying to calm down.

-Donovan was a criminal who knew the Sheriff, and  he threatened to kill him in front of Stiles. He was later transformed into a chimera, and Stiles must have thought that those reasons were sufficient to kill him.

Derek laughed, a laugh without humor:

-Wait, you’re trying to tell me a weakling like Stiles, who is barely 70 kilos when soaking wet would have attacked a chimera, a hybrid boosted on supernatural DNA alone and that he managed to kill him? Do you even hear yourself? You know Stiles! you know as well as me he would never do such a thing! I mean, he hated me at the time of the events of Kanima, and he saved me from drowning, holding me up for hours! you really think he’s capable of going out alone with his ridiculous bat woods and kill a three times stronger opponent than himself?

-He changed after the Nogitsune!

-Of Course he has changed! he was possessed by an evil Fox spirit that forced him to kill people and to hurt his friends! He must be as traumatized as you! Did you asked him why he did this ? Have you asked for explanations? Who told you that he had killed the chimera?

-It's me. Theo announces, and the sight of his smile, Derek’s blodd boils in his veins. He throws himself on Theo despite the howls of the pack:

-what did you do ? he shouts angrily.

Theo pushes him, and suddenly Derek feels weak, like drugged. Like  when he’s close to wolfsbane ... And he understands. The glass of water!  The Glass of water  Theo gave him when he arrived! he must have added some in it, and Derek, too restless, had not spotted the characteristic odor. Collapsing on the floor, he curses Theo and realizes that the whole pack was drugged, even Scott whose head had rolled on his shoulder. The only thing he sees before fainting is the fist of Theo approaching his face.

 

 

Derek wakes up slowly, a metallic taste in the mouth, his arms burning. He struggles to straighten himself and as soon as his feet supports his weight, the pain subsides. He understands that he is attached with heavy chains covered in wolfbanes and that he cannot break free. He hears moaning at his side. To his right, the whole pack is aligned against the wall, chained similarly, even humans. Scott is doubly tied up to contain his alpha force. But he doesn’t seem to care. He’s look at  something in front of him, eyes wide with horror. Derek turns his head and gasps.

Stiles is lying on the floor, in a pitiful state. He’s only wearing a boxer, his body horribly emaciated and weak. His ribs are pointing under his as pale as death skin, and some are visibly broken, forming deformations on his chest. He’s covered with scratches, some healed, others still fresh. Huge blue bruises are covering his thighs, up to his neck. He has a swollen eye, and the jaw and the lips are showing nasty violet color. His whole body is shaking tremors, and his breathing is punctuated with ominous groans. One of his ankles is surrounded by a  bandage, but Derek can see from where he is that it is not enough and that this injury is really bad. The whole room smells like blood, pain and fear. The smell is so strong that Derek feels his fangs lengthen and his eyes shine.

"STILES! yells the voice of the Sheriff. Derek is startled, not having noticed the man among the pack.

-Stiles, Answer me! STILES! he shouts an anguished voice.

Stiles moaned as he awoke, his eyes clouded with pain. He tried to move, mumbling incoherently, completely groggy.

Derek hears a creak, and Theo enters the room. Stiles's reaction is immediate. He groans and sits up on one elbow, becoming aware of what surrounds him with horror. Theo smiles to the pack, triggering an avalanche of  howls. He approaches slowly Stiles, as vicious as a snake. He caresses the cheek of the human, and Stiles, terror tears rolling down his cheeks, his breath shortenning, doesn’t dare to move.

"You were begginning to feel lonely, right baby? I brought you a small gift. Do you like it? he whispers softly, as if talking to a child.

A sob escapes from Stiles:

-pl ... Theo Please, do not hurt them, it's my fault I beg you not ...

Scott whines like a puppy and the whole pack is sniffs or sobbing in unison. Derek feels his throat tighten. Stiles was lying on the ground, half dead, and he was still trying to protect those who betrayed him. It rips his heart. Scott didn’t deserve someone so loyal.

These supplications are not pleasing Theo. He sits up, sa fast as a lightning,  and kiks Stiles in his belly, making him fly. His back connects with the wall with a thud. The pack explodes in angry and horrified howls, wolves turning and struggling against the chains. Stiles lands on his ribs, spitting blood. Yet he straightens, his eyes fixed on a Theo foaming with rage. But he leaves Stiles and turns to Scott.

"So Scott? you feel stupid don’t ya? Stiles was right from the beginning! He bursts out laughing. You are so naive! So easy to foul! Everything was easy.

Scott growls, threatening, but Theo laughs. He turns to Derek, with a hateful expression.

-It was easy, until you arrived Derek. I wanted to prove Stiles that nobody was caring about him anymore, but obviously, I was wrong.

The teenager approaches the former Alpha and plunges his golden eyes in the blue ones of Derek.

-He is mine. He scolds. He is mine !

Derek tries to bite him, but his fangs stop a few centimeters from his neck, the chains not allowing him to go further.

-I’m going to kill you ! Derek screams, enraged. You sick fuck, I'll rip your throat!

Theo backs down without any ounce of fear in his cruel eyes.

-He is mine. He repeats, as if to assure Derek had understood.

He returns to see Scott, and smiles anew.

-You’ve got regrets McCall? You should hade listened to Stiles shouldn’t you? I still do not understand how you trusted me so easily.

-You're a freak! What do you do that for ? Why are you doing all this? Lydia screams.

-I Want a pack. I want to be powerful. But I don’t need  Scott as my Alpha. And I’m starting to think that I do not need others either. He makes a disgusted face. You are weak and naive.

He adds a lighter tone:

-I Think I'll keep only Stiles. He will make a fantastic beta as soon as I can transform him.

He stares at Scott.

-Look at you ... I really do not understand how you could think that Stiles had killed Donovan.

-You Told me that he killed him ! Scott explodes, struggling with all his might against the chains.

\- of course, of course! I couldn’t tell you that it was I who had send the Wendigo after Stiles, and that he had only tried to defend his life ... you should have heard him! Donovan was explainning Stiles how he was going to eat his legs, then how he was going to hurt the Sheriff.  Stiles desperately trying to escape by climbing the scaffolding, dropped steel bars ... Unfortunately, Donovan was pierced right through by one of them …Tragic ... really! Accident, self-defense ... and no one to listen to the poor Stiles apologizing for trying to survive! Theo grins.

Scott gasps, tears in his eyes.

-It's What really happened?

\- Yes ! Ha! I wish you could see your  face Scott, I'd almost pity you!

Derek silently exploses in rage. It was all Scott’s fault. If they were getting out of it alive, he was going to murder him!

Scott is reduced into a sobbing mes.

-Sorry Stiles, sorry ...

The Sheriff isn’t any better, his face painfully contorted.

The smell of guilt diffuses into the air, and Derek want to vomit. They are all responsible. The pack, and even him. He should have called Stiles more often, ask him how he was doing rather than leaving like a selfish lovesick idiot in honeymoon with his new girlfriend. He feels  terribly guilty and can not do anything.

Theo laughs, and turns to the Sheriff.

-And you ! disowning your own son! you are the best father of the year! Did you knew Stiles suffered so much that he began to open his veins? He says pulling Stiles bluntly, practically lifting him from the earth and ignoring his cries of pain.

The pack opens horrified eyes when Theo shows them his arm, where hideous gashes confirm what he said.

'But I will not let you hurt him again. He is mine ! mine ! he repeats, lost in his delirium.

-Stiles, I'm so sorry ... lets out his father.

-Ah, you see Stiles, they apologize! Isn’t it wonderful? A bit late though! Theo declaims with big gestures, as if he were in as theater, immersed in a morbid scene with dark surroundings.

-Stiles Is much better with me, and I'll prove it!

He throws himself on the floor with Stiles, imprisons his hands, and humans can do nothing in his weakened state.

He screams, begs.

\- No ! Theo, no! Please, not in front of them! NO !

 He might struggle, cry, scream, beg, he is weak, skinny and injured.

-Oh Stiles. You were not so difficult  all the other times!  Come on! Be the good little bitch you are!

The Whole pack howls in fury when understanding what was going to happen, and they all are fighting against their chains in a deafening roar. Derek yells with the same fervor. No. That can not happen. How many times had he inflicted him that? Beating him death was not enough? He had to do this to him?

Theo hits Stiles in the ribs, and the human screams, stop is struggling in a vain attempt to breathe. Theo takes the opportunity to snatch his boxerand spread his legs. Stiles whimpers and Theo enters him violently with a victorious laugh. Derek looks away, flowded away by a wave of emotions he’s losing control of. Disgust, fury, pity, fear. He was really going to kill Scott and Sheriff with him, for good measure.

He focuses on the pack. Malia and Lydia are crying, eyes closed. Liam and Hayden are looking at each other, trying to reduce the world to the eye of the other to escape reality. Scott and the Sheriff also are also weeping, face as white as death, shocked, almost expressionless. Mason appears to be on the verge of fainting.

Derek may close his eyes, but he can not cover his ears. Stiles’s screams of pain resound against the concrete walls, in heartrending echoes. The sound of  a skin rubbing against another skin, so violent, is unbearable. Theo’s grunts, are making his stomach turn, and makes him want to kill him, to slaughter him and making suffer, tearing him the same way he tears Stiles. Theo finishes, and rises with a laugh:

-Ha! You should see your faces! But he’s used to it! Aren’t you Stiles? We had two weeks for ourselves! "

Stiles does not respond. Derek  alloxs himself to throw him a look. Theo putted his boxer back on, allowing Stiles to keep the last shreds of dignity he has left. But the human's thighs are coated with blood, whose metallic odor diffuses, powerful and unhealthy.

"Stiles? STILES! "Yells the sheriff at the top of his lungs. Derek clenshes his teeth and forces himself  to listen to the heart beats of the teenager. They are weak, but steady. He had fainted.

-I have warned you. He is mine.

Stiles let out a groan of pain, and Theo explodes with rage. He begins to hit him, unleashed. The blood splatters the walls, bones cracking and the pack howls.

The cellar door flies open and slams against the wall. All startled they watch the doorway, which let Chris and Alan Silver Deaton come in. Chris shoots a crossbow, which aims Theo's shoulder. With a howl of rage, the latter  transforms into a kind of totally black  coyote who pushes away the two men, knocking them in his flight. Chris gets up muttering a curse under his breath, and rushes to deliver the pack, while Deaton rushes alongside Stiles.


	4. REMORSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> do not hate me please  
> I have too much work at school and couldn't do it sooner, soooooorry :(  
> I didn't even asked for it to be corrected, sorry for the one who proposed, but I wanted it to be updated as soon as possible~  
> so!
> 
> I wanted to thank you guys,for letting so much kudos and comments.... that's awsome to know my story as so many followers :D
> 
> hope you enjoy, and as always, kudos and comments are welcomed ;)
> 
> à bientôt pour le chapitre 5 !

Scott was the first to be delivered, and he rushes to Deaton. A flood of tears is flowing down his cheeks but he doesn’t even seem to notice them.

 

" Is he... how is  ...  are you… He sutters, unable to formulate a coherent sentence

 

Deaton can only make a helpless gesture.

 

-I am a veterinarian! I can’t help him ! you must take him to the hospital. He cries, his voice distorted by anguish.

 

Derek is the last one to be detached. The fear to lose Stiles is surrounding him like a cocoon, and he doesn’t even register how they all manage to go to the hospital. It all happened too fast for his brain to register. All he knows is that a second ago he was leaning over Stiles, fighting with all his might a urge to vomit, seeing the state the teenager was in and the next, he was looking him be taken away in a stretcher, moved by panicked doctors. He feels like he’s waking up when a great silence fells on the group. They are all sitting in a waiting room, each drowning in anxiety, and his head feels like a ringing bell. He still feels a strong nausea. They wait for hours, but it might as well be days. Derek doesn’t even have the energy to move. He remains motionless, his butt stick on his chair, watching the empty space in front of him, asking himself again and again when the fuck he had messed up. He knows he is not responsible, not really, but damn, there must be a culprit. How, but just how the fuck, did it all happened?

 

He’s not the only one to torture himself. The room reeks of anxiety and guilt. Scott has his head buried in his knees, as if trying to shield himself from the outside world. Derek feels a burst of rage explode in his chest. He had no right. No right to hide and pretend that the disaster had not happened. He was th culprit among the culprits! Derek felt his teeth begin to lengthen, and a growl almost escapes in his throat when Melissa opens the door. She smells as  fear and grief, reflected both in his eyes and on his face, and for a moment, Derek freezes. No. It's impossible. Stiles is not dead. No. He almost groans , and the tension in the room becomes overwhelming, but no one dares utter a sound. Melissa gently closes the door, and falls on the nearest chair, on the verge of fainting. Scott lets out a complaint, and the nurse places his elbows on her knees and her forehead in her hands.

 

"They plunged him into an artificial coma. She breathes.

 

Derek takes a shaky breath and feel his fear decrease. A little.

 

Melissa continues:

 

-they didn’t want him to suffer too much, to give him a chance to recover from his injuries.

 

As she speaks, her tone becomes more and more detached, as if that helped her to bear her own words.

 

-he has broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder. His ankle is ... She choks a bit, clears her throat and force herself  to continue. Is a mess. Maybe ... Maybe he can walk again one day. I do not ... we do not know, it's too early to say, the injury was not treated in time, but it was miraculously not infected. Otherwise, we might have to amputate it. He ... has many scratches, scrapes and bruises, some of which leave scars. Regarding internal injuries ... some organs have been seriously affected, he needed surgery. He took blows to the head, but we can not know if his brain was damaged. I do not ... I do not know how long they'll leave him in a coma. Perhaps two or three weeks, enought time to let him recover ...

 

When she closes her mouth, the silence in the room is heavy, unbearable.

 

-it .. he'll be fine then? Scott whisper.

 

Melissa looks up and glares her son with burning eyes.

 

-physically he should heal, but we can’t be completely positive, it depends on the results of brain scans. Mentally, I do not know. What state are you in, when you’ve been  beaten up and raped?

 

Scott has a strangled gasp. Melissa’s voice is angry hued.

 

-I want you to explain me HOW this happened. How did he disappeared and I only know when you bring him back half dead??? HOW? she yells the last word, and everyone gasps.

 

Sheriff’s face is tinged with nameless suffering, and it’s  with the voice of a broken man that he whispers:

 

-I did not know either ....

 

Melissa opens her mouth, a total look of surprise on her face.

 

-your son disappears and you’re not alarmed John ??? He ... He's your only family member still alive after ... after the death of Claudia, and you were always protective. What happened ? what about you  Malia? No news from your boyfriend and you don’t fin dit strange?  and Scott? You and your best friend haven’t spent more than a day without each other! What about all of you? a member of the pack disappears, a friend, and NOBODY cares ???

 

Scott lets out a pitiful whimper.

 

-Stop it mom ..

 

-I did. Derek grunts in a deep voice. He feels an unprecedented fury invade his body. I did worry. For months I had not sent a message to Stiles, and neither had he. I wondered, at first, and then I thought he was sulking and he would eventually call. When I saw his last message dated back to nearly two months, I tought it was not like him to ignore me for so long, and I called. When he answered, it was to beg me to help him, between cries of pain. Then I came back to beacon hills in an emergency, to be told to fuck off by Scott, who said that Stiles was not worth the trouble. So I also want an explanation.

 

All eyes converge on the Alpha, who closes his eyes, overwhelmed by shame.

 

-I believed Theo, he says, and his voice is a husky whisper of pain and regret. He came to see me and told me that Stiles had blown a lead. He had massacred Donhovan. And I ... I believed him. I thought ... that Stiles had broke down because of nogitsuné ... and that he was behaving like Peter would have. So I ... I banished Stiles. It was there nearly two months ago. I told him I did not want to see him, and that he wasn’t allowed to talk to a member of the pack. And I warned the sheriff ... I told him what Theo had told me.

 

\- And I, John continues, I ... I told Stiles that ... he had no place in my house and that once he had the legal age, he should leave. I told him he was a murderer ... I have even forbidden him to call me Dad. He finishes before bursting into heartrending sobs.

 

Derek glares at him with disgust. He can only see a destroyed man, plagued by what he did, but he can not feel an ounce of pity. And if he could not do it, how could Stiles?

 

-Nobody listenned to his explanations?

 

-no. Scott mumbles sniffing. I pushed him away every time.

 

-then it's been two months that he is isolated, without friends or family to rely on? Melissa asked, eyes filled with tears. He did not come to ask for my help ....

 

-he didn’t asked me either. Deaton mumbles. The veterinarian is pale, and his eyes can’t seem to take off the ground. I guess he must have feared our reaction ... This is understandable, seeing the reaction of all those around him, he didn’t think we would react differently ... but I have an important question. How long had he been gone?

 

Time seems to stop. They all look at Deaton as if they didn’t understand the question.

 

The vet looks at Melissa.

 

-some of his injuries seemed really old.

 

Melissa nods.

 

Malia takes inspiration:

 

-I think ... it was two weeks.

They all watch her, petrified.

 

-WHAT ? Derek yells.

 

-No. Chris breathes.

 

-he suffers this for two weeks ... Melissa whispered, her tears flowing freely now.

 

-Why Didn’t you say anything ??? Scott shouts.

 

Malia rises, her features distorted by rage.

 

-and what would you have done? you yourself have ordered me not to talk to him or communicate with him in any way whatsoever! I just noticed that he hadn’t come to school ! I could never have guessed that Theo ...

 

She stops suddenly and sits down, her anger blowened off.

 

-we all trusted Theo.

 

-But ... I do not understand. Derek mumbles. He hadn’t been in the pack for long, why did you trusted him more than Stiles?

 

The pack shifts sheepishly, and Liam responds:

 

-he was nice. He  helped us, saved us. There was nothing suspicious with him.

 

-Stiles didn’t agree. Breathes Malia. He had warned us, said there was something wrong with him. I didn’t listen ...

 

Melissa sighs, and Derek feels that she does not even have the strength to be angry. She just seems defeated, defeated by what happened, and can not be erased, even though she wished it with every fiber of her being.

 

Derek feels exactly the same. Buried under tons of anger. He gets up slowly, like a predator, and Scott gives him a warily glance.

 

-I am going to hit you. He growls, watching Scott's eyes.

 

Melissa has a hiccup, and tenses, as if she wanted to putherself between the two wolves.

 

-It will not make any good Derek. She sighs.

 

-No. Derek admits. But it will make me feel better. And you too, I'll hit you. He roars, glaring at the Sheriff.

 

The man looks at him, but there is not an ounce of defiance in his eyes. Not even the threat "be aware, I'm still the sheriff."

 

'You can do whatever you want to me Derek, it will not reach me. The only thing that matters to me is Stiles, for the rest .... He leaves the sentence on hold, but Derek takes tihs opportunity as it passes.

 

-You Think he'll forgive you?

 

The Sheriff jumps a little and Scott groans, as pack holds his breath. But Derek isn’t finished. He has things to say, and he knows what to say to make it painful.

 

-you think he will forgive any of you? Friends or family? you believe he will forgive you after you’ve abandoned him for months and  letting him being kidnapped, tortured and raped for days? even I do not deserve forgiveness, even if I begged him on my knees!

 

-I don’t think, Melissa says in a very calm tone despite her face white as death, That you know what Stiles will decide or do when he wakes up.

 

-This Is not worth it, Derek, don’t make things worse, not now. Beg softly Chris.

 

But Scott rises. His eyes are scarlet, glowing in anger, and he growls softly.

 

-you think I do not know? you think I'm proud of what happened? you think I’m okay with this ? I will do everything to apologize. I will never let him down again.

 

Derek throws a flood of insults, explodes with rage and hits Scott with all his might, sending him with a huge blow crashing against the wall. The plaster crumbles, revealing cracked concrete behind .

 

-IT'S TOO LATE ! YOU ABANDONED HIM, YOU MADE HIM FEEL ALONE, YOU SEPARATED HIM FROM HIS FATHER BECAUSE YOU REFUSED TO LISTEN ! YOU LET THEO DO WHATEVER HE WANTED TO HIM BECAUSE YOU ACT AS IF THE WORLD WAS GOOD AND PEACEFULL! EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DIDN’T LET ANY CHANCE TO STILES, YOU SHOWED NO MERCY, AND YOU THINK I'M GOING TO DO LET YOU OFF SO EASELY? YOU DO NOT EVEN DESERVE TO BE FORGIVEN! I DON’T WANT YOU TO EVER SPEAK TO HIM AGAIN! I DO NOT WANT YOU TO PUT YOUR EYES ON HIM!

 

-Derek! Chris screams, rising. Everything is not Scott’s fault! the hunter does not shrink away from Derek’s fangs, and continues:

 

-that's enough. It's not up to you to decide what will happen between Stiles and Scott. Given what he has been through, I think he’ll want to regain control of his life. Scott is not the only one responsible. Deaton and I did not notice you were missing before Scott was late for work, let alone Stiles disparition.

 

Melissa rises, and adds:

 

-Go get some fresh air. Nobody can see Stiles any time soon anyway. In fact, you should all go get some air. That's nearly been a day you are there. I'll call you when I get news.

 

Derek let out a furious roar, and turns to Scott. The Alpha is sitting against the wall, new tears on his cheeks, and looks absent, pained and distressed. Derek doesn’t even feel guilty. He no longer has the shoulders strong enough for that. It's already crushed under the guilt he feels towards his family and Stiles. He lets out one last roar, and leaves the room. Before the door closes, he hears the voice of Lydia for the first time since they arrived in the hospital, "Stiles will never forgive us." The door closes with a snap that resonates in the hallway, and Derek begins to pray a god he doesn’t even believe in that Banshee’s prediction aren’t always true.


	5. WAITING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> this chapter's wayyyy shorter than the other but well, i uptated, yaooooh!
> 
> You seem to really hate the Sheriff and the Scott of my fanfic… err, I hope it won’t have consequences on the way you see the characters of the real serie ^^  
> You’ve been so many to say that Stiles shouldn’t forgive them, that I would feel bad not to answer your request but hey, I had pretty much the idea of how I want this story to end so I’ll continue to write it my own way… (don’t worry though, I'm not myself Someone Who forgives easily ;) ) 
> 
> So here we are, chapter 5 enjoy!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos welcomed,  
> thank you for your support !

Derek could go and try to calm down, he just wouldn’t. may he be in the hospital, in his loft or in the Hale’s house, he can’t shut down his fears. When Melissa calls him to say that the visits are authorized at least, he drives back to the hospital so fast that his camaro protests noisyly. He hurries to Stiles’ room, and only stops when he’s in front of the door, where Scott’s mother awaits him, her brows furrowed.  
She softly opens the door, muttering :  
-i called you right after i called his dad, but since you’re here first, go in. You’ll have to leave when he arrives thought, it’s family first normaly.  
Derek growls angrily. He wants to tell her that the sheriff doesn’t deserve this « family status », but holds his tongue. Melissa isn’t responsible of anything after all.  
He enters the room, tip toeing, almost intimidated.  
The first thing he sees is a large bed with white sheets, and hidden between the folds of the fabric, a vaguely human form. He approaches, feeling a lump in his throat swell with every step. Stiles wears a mask, covering his mouth and nose to help him breathe. Derek guess it's because of his broken ribs. His ankle emerges from under the sheets, bandaged and nearly twice as big as normal. His face is swollen, his arms covered with bruises and scratches of all kinds. A bandage surrounds his head, an infusion sends a clear fluid into the veins of his wrist and a monitor beeps at the rhythm of his heart and his brain waves.  
His motionless attitudes nearly panics Derek for a moment, and he forces himself to listen to the steady beep, and heart beat to calm down. He grits his teeth so hard that it hurts his jaw. He waits several seconds before settling down and breaths in as he sits by Stiles’s side. Shyly, he squeezes the fingers of the teenager in his hands and caresses it with his thumb.  
"Stiles," he whispers.  
He knows he can’t expect no answer, but it still hurts.  
Two to three weeks of coma had told Melissa. Derek shudders. Suddenly, it seemed terribly long. The human’s skin is warm and soft, but his hands were bony and Derek feels his heart squeeze. With all the sweetness of the world, he turns Stiles’s arm up and looks the scars that clim from his wrist to his forearm. Each white line is like a violent slap for Derek. They are the symbol of suffering and loneliness.  
Derek gently puts his lips on one of them, and mutters: "Oh, Stiles ..."  
Suddenly Derek's scared. He is afraid of the moment when the doctors will wake Stiles up. He spent two months alone, drowned in his selfhatred and his sadness, rejected by those he loves. He was so desperate that he had slashed his arm and had stopped eating. Then he had been kidnapped by Theo. How he would react waking up? Hundreds of questions invade Derek’s brain, and he remains paralyzed. Mechanical noises echoes in the hospital, which however seems almost silent, empty of life. Derek looks at the withe sheets, and suddenly feels all alone. He presses Stiles’s warm hand, desperately. Everything here smells like death, fear, cold. Derek looks at the human, details every feature of his face as if he could read an answer that would reassure him. He feels lost and wants to hear his voice. His voice always full of enthusiasm, his incessant babbling, his nervous posturing and satisfied smiles when he succeded in something.  
Derek lets out a complaint, like a puppy, and gently caresses Stiles’s cheek, trying to remember why he left with Braeden while Stiles was here, right next to him. He realizes how much the human meant to him, much more than any member of the pack.  
He hears someone approaching the door and turns around fast enough to see the sheriff openning it.  
They stare at each other in silence for a moment, then Derek gets up with a last look at Stiles’s motionless form. When he comes out into the hallway, the whole pack is aligned against the wall, like a punished child band. Parish is with them, Lydia surrounded by his muscular arms, his face dead serious. Seeing his head, Derek has no doubts he knows the whole story. The deputy throws him a disturbed and questioning look, to which Derek responds with a raised eyebrow, before walking away without more consideration for the others. He leaves the hospital and sits in his car. He clenches his hands on the steering wheel, invaded by an immense fatigue.  
"It will be very long. " he Mutters between his teeth.

And this is indeed long. Stiles remains in coma for a week more than what the doctors had said, and during this long month of Derek feels like he’s turning crazy. He makes incessant back and forth between the hospital and his loft only because Melissa orders him to go to sleep, telling him repeatedly that there are visiting hours, and that she’d call if they decided to wake the teenager up. Derek finds the concept of visiting hours stupid, not bothered by the idea of sleeping on the floor if it meant staying with Stiles. But he obeyed, his teeth clenched every time he sees the sheriff or a member of the pack. Chris, Deaton and Parrish also comeby, as often as the others, and it reassures a bit Derek. The tension is so strong between the pack and himself that he was relieved to see people he does not want to massacre. Well, Chris exepted of course.  
When, finally, Melissa calls to tell him they woke Stiles up, Derek is dripping wet with shampoo in his eyes and is screaming on the phone:  
-but why didn’t ya called me b’fore damn it !  
-Derek, says Melissa’s voice, distorted by the phone, you needed to sleep and a shower. It's been a month since you follow the nurses around as a ghost and you look half dead, hungry and tired. You needed this rest. He has not woken up yet, he’s just asleep. I called you just because it won’t be long from now on. See you in a bit.  
And she hangs up before leaving the wolf enough time to protest. Derek mutters an insult, returns to rinse himself up and prepares in minutes thanks to his werewolf’s speed. He parks his camaro in the hospital parking lot a few minutes later and climbs the stairs four at a time to Stiles’s room. The sheriff is already there, sitting next to Melissa, and Derek cringes, annoyed. He leans against the wall in a stubborn silence, and focuses on hearing Stiles heart beat, who still sleeps. He knows this frequency by heart now, and could recognize it between thousands. If his own heart could calm down.  
The rest of the pack arrives, followed by Chris, Deaton and Parrish. Scott seems about to explode, startled to the smallest noise. Kira, returned after she learned what had happened to Stiles, shakes his hand in a vain attempted comfort gesture  
A doctor in a white coat arrives after ten minutes, and puts his hand familiarly on Melissa’s shoulder who smiles nervously. He then fixed his blue eyes on the strange crowd and his lips stretch into a grin that wants to be warm.  
-It’s Uncommon to see a patient who has so many people to visit him. He’s lucky.  
Derek can not help himself. He growls disdainfully and snarls:  
-Would have been better if he had had so many people there for him BEFORE he ended up there.  
Th whole pack freezes and glares at Derek. The doctor frowns.  
-Better late than never right?  
Derek clenches his teeth. This human was irritating.  
-not in this case, no.  
The doctor makes a pout-Derek wants to erase it with a punch- but is smart enough to change the subject.  
-Hum. Whatever, I must say that you are too many to see him today. I cannot allow anyone beside his family.  
Derek stands up and approaches the human, fists clenched.  
-I’m gonna see him too.  
The doctor smiles, victory almost written on his face.  
-You can’t.  
-And who’s gonna stop me ? Growls Derek, ready to punch the humain.  
The doctor frowns, angry.  
-I’m gonna call the security.  
Derek laughes :  
-And you think they’ll stop me ? The sheriff ‘s here, and I don’t think he would appreciate the rukus, right ? he says, looking menacingly at Stiles’s father.  
The sheriff, his eyes openned whide, waves his hand weakly :  
-No I… Please doctor, let him go in as well.  
The doctor clenches his teeth and glares at Derek.  
-I’m against it medicaly speaking.  
-Still don’t care. Derek Fights back. No one can stop me from seeing him today.  
-Fine ! The doctor exclaims, before turning on his heels and openning the door.


	6. GUILTY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii  
> I swear I'm not letting this story down, I'm just pretty busy and slow.  
> Again, thanks a lot for kudos, comments, bookmarks and all, it's always a pleasure !  
> I hope you'll enjoy yourselves, don't forget to tell me what you thought. I may not answer but I read everything !  
> see you around :)

The room is as white and empty as always. Stiles’s small form is still, and his injuries, that had a month to heal, had disapear from his face, at least. His ankle was still in plaster, his ribs needed more time, but the bruises were long gone. Derek goes straight to his side, the sheriff following him, and watches impatiently for the doctor to come closer.  
-We’ve stopped administering sedatives a few hours ago, he’ll wake up soon. He says, his face back to a mask of serenity and professionalism.  
Then they waited. Ten minutes later, Stiles eyes begin to flutter, and his heart beat rises up. When he opens completly his eyes, he looks at the ceiling, his face blank. Derek’s throath is contricted by a strong emotion that he can’t describe. Knowing that Stiles was alive, and seeing his gorgeous brown irises were two different things. This was real, and as conforting as terrible. He had to swallow his saliva to prevent tears from rolling down his cheeks.  
-hey. Says gently the doctor, Stiles, can you hear me ?  
Stiles looks down and frowns at the doctor for a few second before panicking, his throath letting out weak complains and his arms vainly trying to lift him up.  
-Stiles ! calls out Derek, while the sheriff just stands here, agape and arms uselessly halfway touching his son. Derek catches Stiles arms and cups his cheeks with his right hand.  
-Stiles, you’re alright, you’re safe, i’m here, calm down, you’re okay, you are okay… Derek mutters, trying to calm him down.  
Stiles ‘s struggle ends, and he watches Derek with a confused stare. He opens his mouth, but it takes several attemps before he can make sounds :  
-De… Derek ?   
-yeah, It’s me, I’m here, you’re safe Stiles, okay ? calm down, I won’t let anything happen to you anymore alright ? Just breath. There. It’s okay …  
Stiles then burts into tears and holds on tight on derek.  
The latter hugs him for dear life and continues to hush him with a calming tone. It takes him a quarter of hour to finally settle down.   
The doctor who had patiently waited approaches and explains to Stiles what had happened to him and the extant and consequences of his injuries.  
There was a silence, and Stiles, not daring to look at his father, frowns :  
-What… what about… what about Theo ?   
-The police is currently searching him. Answers the doctor. I doubt that Sheriff Stinlinski would add any information about that, but I can tell you you’re safe. A guard has been posted at your door since you arrived and won’t let anyone who would harm you in okay ?   
-He got away. Says the sheriff, and Stiles jumps.   
Derek could hear his heart beat do the same. Stiles still refuses to look at his father.  
The doctor clears his throat :  
-Well, I’ll come back later so that we can discuss about psycologicals and physical cure for you Stiles, but now you need to rest. Waking up form a month of sleep isn’t anything after all.  
Derek smiles at Stiles and tells him that he can stay and watch for him, but the sheriff interfers :  
-I’d like to talk to my son if you don’t mind. All alone.  
Derek doesn’t miss Stiles‘s shiver. He glares at the older Stilinski, but knows that it has to happen. Stiles needs to talk to him, and Derek can’t protect him from it.  
So he squeezes Stiles’s shoudler gently and tells him that he isn’t going farer than the corridor. Stiles doens’t answer, his sight locked on his feet.  
Dereks makes his way out, preceded by the doctor. On the other side of the door, the whole pack awaits him, but no one dares to ask anything.   
-I think he’ll be fine. We‘ll need to test his physical and mental abilities, but so far I haven’t detected any brain damage. He’ll need sessions with a psycologist and physical therapy, but I can say that he does well for what happened to him.  
He sights and waves a good bye before leaving.  
Derek leans back against the door. No one would cross this threshold bar.  
For a long moment, he only listens to silence. And then…  
-Stiles.  
-Stiles, I know you can talk. I… I would understand if you just wouldn’t do it for now okay? Just listen to me. I… I want to say that I’m terribly sorry for what has happended. I never asked for it and I.  
-Where’s Theo ? Asks Stiles brutaly.  
Derek hears the Sheriff sights.  
-He got away. Chris, Deaton, the whole pack and I searched for him. We don’t know where he could have gone. And we don’t have any news about the Dread Doctors either. They all left Beacon Hill, or at least we suppose.  
-No they didn’t.  
-Stiles, it’s okay, we’ll protect you. We won’t let anything happen to you anymore, you know that, we…  
-I’m tired now. Stiles interrups him a second time. Derek hears the sheets move.  
-Stiles. The sheriif calls out.  
The teen doesn’t answer him, and Derek moves away from the door when the sherrif gets out of the room.   
The man slowly closes the door, and looks at the pack. He looks defeated.  
-We’ll try again tomorrow. Scott tries to confort him.  
Derek snorts, but Lydia talks first:  
-We’ll try everyday. And the day after that. And the day after. But I’m telling you. He won’t forgive us. We don’t deserve it.  
-Stop it! Kira fights back. We can fix it. Nothing is lost.  
-Apart from his thrust. Malia groans.   
The whole pack seem to tense, and Derek knows that they’ll begin to make a fuss, so he straights up and growls them away. None of them protest, but Derek knows they’ll come back eventually. Scott turns his head back every two steps.  
When Derek can’t hear them anymore, he waves at Melissa, and goes back to Stiles room.  
Stiles is in his bed, his eyes fixated o the ceiling, his gaze so intense that it’s as if he could see right through it.  
« Hey. » Derek announces himself in a quiet tone.  
Stiles looks at him. His face looks unconcerned, but Derek can feel waves of emotions flowing out of him, as if they were overwhelming him.   
Derek sits down, and finds it almost hard to look at Stiles. He had dreamt, and preyed, hoped that Stiles would live, begged to be able to see those gorgeous brown eyes again, and now that it was real, Derek couldn’t bring himself to make a sound. It’s the teen who finally breaks the silence.  
« Thanks Derek.   
The man’s eyes widden.  
-What for ?  
-For believing me. You were the only one, as far as I know.  
-Stiles…  
The silence settles again, and Derek hates himself for not being able to say anything. « Stiles, is that the only thing you’re capable of mouthing, you idiot ? get a grip of yourself you imbecile ! » Derek thinks, and he takes a deep breath, but Stiles is faster than him.  
-I don’t want to talk about it.  
Derek breathes out.  
-I’m not really sure I want to know either. He answers, in all honesty.  
Stiles snorts.  
-Well, you’ve seen enough as it is.  
Derek feels a little destabilized. He wasn’t used to Stiles using short and cold sentences. They were like a knife slicing through air. Sharp and abrupt.  
-I don’t want you to tell me because I don’t want you to feel obligated to do so. I also don’t think that I’d be the best person to … I mean I’m not … not really god with words.   
Stiles sights.  
-I know.   
The silences comes back again.  
-I’ve been alone for weeks. Stiles Says suddenly, out of nowhere.  
-I know. They gave you up, didn’t they?  
Stiles simply noods, and it makes his pillow move with his head.  
-I know you might not be in position to believe me right now, but I promise you I won’t let you down. No matter what. I swear on my mother’s grave. Derek says, and at this moment he knows that this is a promise he’ll never break.  
-but Braden ? mutters Stiles quietly.  
-We broke up.  
-What ? Why ? Stiles looks up at Derek, and as brown orbs meet green ones, Derek shivers.  
-We were not meant for each other. I guess It simply wasn't good.  
-But… Isn’t there a way to… I don’t know, make it work ?  
-No. Derek answers. He had regain his composure now that the subject was a little less tensed.   
-I don’t wish for it, and she doesn’t either. We realised that we were not the one person we were waiting for, and deceided to part before we hurt each other.  
Stiles remains quiet for a while, and Derek actually checks his heart rate to see if he hadn’t gone to sleep. The teenager is just looking at the empty space.  
-They’ll come again tomorrow right ?  
Derek cringes.  
-They won’t approach you if you don’t want to.  
-Derek, do you know about what happened with… with the chimera ?  
Derek hesitates. Theo had told them, but Stiles was in such a state that it was normal he didn’t remembered right ? But the werewolf didn’t wished to bring up Theo’s name.  
-Yeah, I kinda got the general picture. You don’t need to tell me the whole story. He attacked you, you defended yourself, he got accidentaly killed. It was not your fault.  
Stiles doesn’t answer right away, thinking about it.  
-I wish I could see it in this very simple way. But I can’t. It doesn’t matter that it was an accident. It doesn’t matter that I’m innocent from your point of view, or even from the law’s. It doens’t even matter what Scott, or the Sheriff said about it. Because the facts don’t change. I feel responsible. I’m crushed under the guilt. He might have been the worst scum of the whole planet, I still … His death was horrible… Flesh, blood, those groans of agony…  
Derek stops him.  
-Stiles, calm down. I get what you say. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t what should have happen. But you didn’t wanted it to happen. You didn’t wished for it. I know that. Even if he treathenend your dad, even if you were angry and scared, you didn’t wanted it. You’re not that kind of person. You’re a good one. You can feel guilty about it. You can. But don’t let those feeling overcome you. You don’t deserve it. It wasn’t intentional, and if this fact alone doesn’t make you innocent, it still leaves you unscared. You are a good person. I don’t care what the pack told you okay ? They’re stupid. A bunch of homonal teenager who think they’re smarter than everyone with their mighty supposed wisdom.  
Derek doesn’t miss Stiles tears, before the teen dries them up with his sleeve.  
-It doesn’t really change my point of view, but thanks. He croaks.  
Derek takes Stiles hand in his own. Stiles twiches, but relaxes soon after. Derek tries to take any pain away, but he can only feel a little, comming from his ankle and ribbs, the morphine still effective.  
Stiles relaxes anyway, and he slowly falls asleep. Derek holds his hand, in this little room, in this big and almost quiet hospital. The bedside table is switched on, the sun goes down outside, coloring the white walls in shades of orange. And Derek begins to think that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be a better day.


	7. OUTBURST 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I EDITED CHAPTER TWO because 500 words had disapeared. Don't have a clue where they went, so you should go back and read them, even if they aren't absolutely necessary to the understanding of the story... They're at the very end of the chapter. Sorry I messed up !  
> So, a new chapter. Sorry about my verryyyyy slow editing pace. As a reader I would be very pissed at the author>_

Stiles awakes at his own screaming and struggles before realizing that the one trying to hold him down isn’t Theo but Derek. He lies back down with a groan of pain and immediately Derek grabs his hand and takes it away.  
There are a few minutes of silence and then Stiles asks:  
-Why are you still here?  
-I’ve been here everyday since you were hospitalized, and I don’t plan on leaving. Simply answers Derek.  
Stiles looks at the werewolf, agape. His voice was calm, his face seems determined, and the teen can’t see any lie in those green eyes.  
-But…  
-What ?  
-Why would you do that ? mutters Stiles, avoiding to look at Derek.  
The older takes his time before answering.  
-Because you’ve been hurt. Because you’re pack. And because I do care about you.  
Stiles head turns so fast that Derek fears for a moment that he’ll break it.  
-Pack?  
-Yeah pack.  
-I’m not.  
Derek hears and smells the hurt that Stiles feels.He growls.  
-You are. I don’t care about those fucking idiots. They may not have realized everything you did for them, or for me, but I do at least. I owe you my life, I know that. And I also know that I don’t trust a lot of people, but you’re one of the few fellow I can trust my head with.  
Stiles shakes his head, but Derek can see that he’s grateful. Stiles’s eyes never knew how to lie.  
-I though you disliked me, why do you care ?  
Derek almost blushes. Almost. His lips curls into a thin line. He was no way near ready to tell Stiles that he has feared to lose him so much that he had to claw his palms not to wolf out in front of the whole hospital. He, the born-sourwolf-freak-of-control.  
-Well, you do help out sometimes.  
Stiles makes a strangled noise.  
Derek hums, and after briefly putting his hand on Stiles’s shoulder, who flinched, he stands up.  
“I’m gonna get the nurses, and tell them you’re up. Stiles simply nods. As the werewolf gets out, the Sheriff comes in. He’s dressed in his uniform, and has certainly stopped by on his way to work  
Derek frowns, and growls:  
-I’m going to see the nurse, tell them he’s awake.  
-I’ll stay with him. The man answers his voice filled with authority and assurance.  
Derek looks at Stiles one last time before leaving.

Stiles silently watches as he disappears in the corridor, and doesn’t say anything either when his father settles on Derek’s chair.  
-Son, I want to talk to you. Would you listen to me ?  
Stiles still refuses to look at him and nods slowly.  
-I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have reacted like that but you know I trusted Scott… I don’t know what to do to make you forgive me. I promise, I swear it will never happen. I’ll protect you, ad I won’t ever let my eyes away from you okay ?  
As Stiles doesn’t really react, the Sheriff sights.  
-You’ll be realeased by the end of the week. They say you’ll have to come back quite often because they want to keep an eye on your injuries, and you’ll have appointments with a specialist for your anckle and a psycologist, so you’ll go back to school in three weeks hopefully. Is that okay Stiles ?  
-I…. yeah okay Sheriff.  
The Sheriff jumps, and his face decomposes it self in a morified and horrified expression.  
-Oh my god Stiles I… I’m sorry. I should never have told you such a thing.I’ll never cease to be your father, no matter what happens. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realise it. You can call me dad, of course.  
Stiles continues to gaze at the wall. With a shudder, he remembers the disgusted face of his father « don’t call me that ».  
-No. He mutters.  
-I…. What ? stutters the Sherrif.  
Stiles turns his head at the opposite of his father.  
-I don’t know if I can call you like that after… I don’t know if I’ll be able to one day. He chokes.  
-Stiles, I… whines the Sheriff.  
But Stiles shakes his head negativly, refusing to look at him. So the Sheriff rises up, and leaves the room without a word.  
Behind the door, he finds sets of horrified eyes, and that makes as many sets of ears that didn’t miss the conversation. He doesn’t have the strengh to say anything, so he just walks away.  
Derek overhears him talking and crying to Melissa :  
« What have I done ? I’ve lost him, maybe forever. He’s never gonna forgive me. He’ll never call me dad again… » Melissa pats his back, apparently sorry and angry at the same time.  
The werewolf sights. His anger tells him that the Sheriff deserves it, and in the meantime he feels bad for him. He shakes his head and goes back to Stiles room.  
Stiles violently jumps and turns towards the door, before relaxing a little at Derek’s sight.  
The werewolf sits next to him, and waits for him to talk.  
-I wonder if one day, I’ll stop being afraid of an opening door. Each time, I believe it’s Theo, that he’s come back to hurt me. Mutters Stiles in a strangled voice.  
Derek clenches his teeth, fury invading him.  
-I’ll have this bastard heart riped out of his chest. He growls. It makes Stiles flinch, so he quickly stops.  
-Derek, do you know… Have they… How long did I stayed with Theo ?  
Derek mumbles.  
-What ?  
Derek clears his troath.  
-Two weeks. They said they didn’t notice. Growls Derek, before realising that it was not the best choice of words. At all.  
Stiles has a hiccup.  
-they had not noticed that I had disappeared? I go missing during two weeks and nobody is trying to know if something happened to me? I  
Derek watche in horror as tears go running down his cheeks, and the teen covers his face with his hands.  
-Stiles ... Derek whispers with a wounded voice. I shouldn’t have tell you ...  
Stiles looks up. His tears still flow, but his eyes sparkle with rage, in such intensity that Derek had never seen. Stiles gets up like a spring, despite his injuries and tears the catheter off of his arm. Derek gets up from his chair, surprised at the angry outburst of the teen. He watches in atonishement as Stiles begins screaming, throwing insults, reverse the tables, pulling the cabinet doors, and even throwing a chair through the window, unable to sketch a movement. The glass is broken, but the screwed bars behind the glass cabinet prevent the landing three floors below. The noise eventually attracts nurses and the pack, and it takes three auxiliary nurses plus Scott's mother for Stiles to be strapped to the bed in which he continues to struggle and scream. Nurses make everyone out into the hallway, leaving Melissa manage Stiles crisis.  
In the corridor, Derek is livid. He was paralyzed by the outburst of the teenager and could not even protect him from himself.  
Lydia sits on the floor, her back against the wall and her hands on her ears, tears flowing without restraint. Derek guesses Stiles must scream loud enough for human ears to hear.  
He closes his eyes and concentrates on what the teen is shouting.  
"Untie me! untie me! he shouts, lost in his hysteria. I don’t ever want be attached! UNTIE ME!  
-Stiles, I can not release you if you do not calm down, you could hurt yourself. Melissa Tries to appease him.  
\- NO ! please ! no ! Stiles starts crying. He gasps, stammered words without any meaning and Derek understands that he stopped struggling when the friction of the straps stop. He then hears Melissa undo the locks, and referring to the fabric sounds, he supposes she took him in her arms and rocks him. Stiles’s crying out loud.  
-I never want to be tied again ... he tied me up too...  
Derek hears Melissa sniffing, and thinks she began to cry.  
-Sorry Stiles she whispers, kissing his hair. Sorry ... It will not happen again, I promise you. We did not want to hurt you, we wanted to ensure that you wouldn’t get hurt, look at what you did to your arms ... You need this catheter Stiles, and you should not move with your wounds ...  
-As if anyone cared! Stiles screams, sobbing harder. They all abandoned me. They don’t want to have anything to do with me, nor the Sheriff nor Scott ... They ... they’re ... right! He begins to stammer in his complaints. They know I killed him .. D ... Donovan and I'm a ... mon... monster!  
-You're not a monster Stiles ... Everyone knows it was to defend yourself now. It’s all Theo’s fault. He was the one who ordered Donovan to attack you. You did what was necessary to survive Stiles, no one can blame you for that. "  
Stiles continues to cry, but Melissa doesn’t leave him. She whispers reassuring words, and begins to sing gently, her voice choked with emotion. Yet she continues to rock him until he calms down and fells asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking that maybe I could do a list of music that you could listen meanwhile reading ? If you're interested, comment bellow ! (you can also suggest songs, because why not !) See you !  
> (Following chapter will be coming by winter break, around december 20 maybe ;) )


	8. TRYING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait ! I discovered the artist "Former Vandal" and his song "war". This song was written for Stiles and I think it fits perfectly ! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gn23sF_KSgk  
> Thank you all for your kudos and comments, it really means a lot to me. Even if I don't always have the time to answer, it's nice of you and heartwarming ! I wish you all a very good x-mas (even thought were are the 26 already) and a happy new year if the next chapter doesn't come before ! see you, i love you !

Stiles stays two more weeks in the hospital. His injuries seem to finaly heal, even if his ribs still hurt when he moves, and his ankle forces him to use crutches. He feels… absent. Like what he sees is a dream, a movie he would see on a screen and on which he has no influence. He doesn’t really say anything, doesn’t react much. He doesn’t even blink when Scott sneaks into his room to cry a million times that he’s sorry. Well, he DOES flinch when Derek opens the door so violently that the door handle makes a hole in the wall behind, and drags forcefully Scott out of his room, teeth bare and growl threatning. The whole pack shows up in the end, at random moments to talk to him about school and stuff, looking like kicked puppies and scared lambs. Lydia’s the only one to look perfectly normal, as if she dares Stiles to say a word about what happened. Stiles doesn’t. He killed Aiden, the guy she was flirting with, and Allison, her best friend, right? He had no right to say a thing.

His father brings him home after those two weeks. He has to leave for work, because the bills that added up puts him even more in the red, so Stiles is alone at home for a week before he can go back to school. Or at least, that’s what he thought. As soon as he sees the Sheriff’s car disappear at the corner of the street, he only has one idea in mind: cutting.

Make the pain dissolve into oblivion, erase each feeling he went through: fear, pain, guilt, shame. He can’t go on. He hates his father. He hates Scott. He hates every member of the pack, and yet, deep down, he loves them, wants to protect them and is sorry for everything he putted them throught. He’s responsible for everything. EVERY DAMN THING. Scott becoming a werewolf. The Nogitsune. Allison. Aiden. All the people he killed. The pack setting him aside. Theo. He chokes on his guilt and shame. It tears him apart. He’s drowning. And he can’t. He just fucking can’t continue anymore. This has to stop. He would do anything. Death does look appealing. Death doesn’t hurt. You simply stop existing. Stop breathing, like a peacefull sleep. And finally, finally you can’t FEEL. Stiles needs that. He needs those overwhelming emotions to stop roaring inside his head, echoing in waves in his whole broken mind. So he searches for any blade, anything sharp that could take this pain away. Releasing it, making it go away in crimson flows. His body was destroyed, ugly and scarred. A few more cuts wouldn’t make such a difference.

When he doesn’t find any in the bathroom or in the kitchen, he climbs up the stairs slowly, struggling with his ankle and crutches, and enters his room, where he always has razor blades under his matress. There, he frozes. Derek fucking Hale is sitting cross-legged on his carpet, a serene expression printed on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Stiles asks, his voice low and deep because un-used. He isn’t surprised. He isn’t even mad, he just asks in an unconcerned tone, as if he was saying that the weather was bad in a casual conversation. To fill-in the blanks. After all, he already knows the answer.

Derek doesn’t move.

“I threw them all away you know.”

Stiles silently climbs his bed, his back turned on the werewolf. It makes him uneasy, but it’s better than facing him. Typical-Stiles-like.

“I figured that much. Woud you give them back please?”

“No. I’m not letting you hurt your self again. I won’t leave you alone. I said that I would protect you and I’ll do it, even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

“Why would you do that Derek. Mind your own business. You don’t owe me anything.

“You’re pack.”

“Quit this bullshit. Give them back.”

“No. I won’t let you hurt yourself ever again Stiles, is that clear ? Never again.”

Stiles has a panic attack.

 

***

 

Derek didn’t lie. He never leaves Stiles alone during the whole week he stays at home. He’s here all the time, day and night. He forces Stiles to eat, to take showers regulary  and keeps the Sherrif at bay with glares and growls. Stiles is thankfull for that last part. He can’t speak to his father. The man tried, casual conversation as “what did you do today?” but the teenager can’t bring himself to answer. He feels like crying each time his father addresses him. He has trouble sleeping, struggling between panic attacks and nightmares. Derek spends hours talking to him, telling him that he’s safe. He never touches him during thoses nights though, and that puts Stiles at ease. He doesn’t like human contact, but when he’s on the edge like that, it makes his skin crawl.

When Monday morning comes, Dereks drives him to school in his blue jeep. Stiles had refused to take the Camaro, because he didn’t want to be at the center of the attention. Well, even more than he would be. Derek would walk back home and pick him up after.

When Derek parks, all the strudent are looking at Stiles. He assumes at first that it’s because they didn’t see him for weeks and that he has crutches, but when he’s in the hallway, and he hears whispers, he understands. They KNOW. He tries not to panic. After all, he doesn’t know how much and what they are aware of. So he goes straight to his locker, where the whole pack surrounds him, chatting like always. The morning flows normally, in a surnatural-normal way, Scott talking about Kira and Lydia cursing idiots and under-developed teen agers brains. Stiles is tensed. His nerves are racked, and he had to grip his table more than once not to burst out in the middle of the lessons.

When lunch time comes, he takes his time and waits for the pack to leave class. When he goes in the almost empty hallway, he debates whenever going to eat at the cafeteria or not. He hadn’t been taking his meals there since the pack threw him out. He didn’t want to sit alone anymore. And he knew from experience that receving a full and hot plate on the head in front of every one was not pleasant. But if he doesn’t go, they would search for him. Well, maybe. And they are certainly waiting for him, and keeping him a seat right? He sights and hobbles to the cafeteria. There, he takes his tray and heads towards the pack’s table.

When he approaches them, he freezes. There are no free seats for him. He stands there, a huge lump in his throat, no knowing what to do. He finds himself pathetic. Just because his “friends” didn’t save him a seat he is on the verge of a panic attack. For such a stupid reason. He hesitates, maybe it’s not too late to go back. But Scott spots him and waves at him, pushes Danny to clear some space, and steals a chair to the freshman behind him. Stiles glups down and rejoins them. There, he stands awkwardly as Danny smiles at him, totally innocently.

“Hey Stiles !” he says.

And then, Stiles feels like he has just been punshed in the guts. He suddenly understands WHAT has been bothering him since he came back from the hospital. They acted like everything was NORMAL, like NOTHING had happened. Like it didn’t matter. Like Stiles is still the ADHD kid, full of life and sarcasm. But he isn’t. This kid is DEAD. But they don’t care.

 And Stiles feels anger. True, raw anger. The one that grows in your stomac, then crawls up your chest, your shoulder, tensing them to a breaking point, and reaches your brain to erase it all. Your whole body tenses. That kind of anger takes away your humanity. Because at this moment you could bite. You could tear and claw anything that you can reach, and at this point it’s not anger it’s rage. Mindless, senseless rage. Violence that needs release.

So Stiles slowly puts his tray on the table, and Scott’s face twists in concern, probably smelling Stiles’emotions.

“Stiles ?”

But Stiles is already gone. He heads to the parking lot as fast as his ankle allows him too, and climbs his jeep. He starts his car, makes it roar as he speeds his way out of the school. Scott Mc Call’s reflection gesticulating in the mirror can go fuck itself.


	9. AVOWING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, am I not amazing XD  
> Hope you enjoy this one, it got complicated to write at a certain point.
> 
> Thanks for kudos and comments ! Tell me what you think about this chapter ;)

Stiles drives home, way over the speed limits. Not that he cares. He climbs up his stairs to his room, adrenaline singing in his viens like magic, allowing him to ignore any pain and move around furiously. He takes a bag, throws clothes and his computer in it and runs back to his car. Then he heads towards Derek’s loft. He bangs on the door, and a wet Derek answers, his hands clinging at the towel covering his waist.

“Stiles ? What’s happening?” the werewolf aks, water driping form his hair.

“Does someone use your sofa now? Cause I’d like to crash on it for a few nights.” He answers, his voice full of anger. He’s making surhuman efforts no to lash out on Derek. He’s the only one who doesn’t deserve it.

The guy stands there, astonished for a few second before moving out of the way. Stiles comes in, chugging along and carefully putting his stuff on the table before sitting on the couch, arms crossed and scowling. Derek observes the teen shyly. He doesn’t know how to react this sudden change of behaviour. Since his release from the hospital, the kid had been almost catatonic. Not talking, not doing much. He would sit in the dark for hours, un-moving, until Derek told him he had to eat, to clean himself, to move. Derek wanted him to LIVE. He misses Stiles. The real one. Not this jumpy and easy-scared Stiles, skinny and bruised. He smelled wrong. Hurted. Like dread, guilt and pain. Sometimes, Derek would catch his look. And it terrorized him. Because all he could see in those brown eyes was defeat. Stiles had given up. Derek could see how much the teen suffered. How much he regretted. There was no more sparks in those eyes. No more hope. But this… this was new. Unexpected, but certainly not unwelcomed. Stiles was angry ? Derek could go with that. A hundred percent following him. He knew this emotion better. He was a master at it, and all hail fury!  If he could get to punch Scott again, he would go for it without asking. He climbs up his spiral stairs and dresses as quickly as he can, not bothering to dry off and rejoins the teen, still fulminating where he first sat down.

“Tell me happened Stiles. School isn’t over yet.”  He ask, trying to keep his tone as soft as possible.

“Nothing.” Growls the teen.

“Stiles, I want to help you. Let me. Talk to me.” Derek tries again. He doesn’t want Stiles to shut him off. He needs to know what’s happening inside of that head.

Stiles lets out a frustrated grunt and sits deeper in the sofa.

“I’m mad right now. I’m furious. And I don’t want to yell at you, which I will end up doing if I don’t calm down before so please, wait a little.”

Derek sighs. The tone of Stiles’s  voice indicates that he’s holding back, and he knows that pushing further wouldn’t make any good.

So he gets up and takes his phone. He has several missed calls from the pack and the Sheriff, and texts.

 

**From- Scott**

_::: Stiles stormed out of skool like crazy ! I don’t understand what happnd, we wr at the cafet’ and then he ran away !_

_::: We can’t leave school, the teachers R  gonna hv our asses!_

_::: U hav 2 find him ASAP ! pls! I calld is dad he’s gonna search 4 him !_

**From- Lydia**

_::: Have you found Stiles? With his foot he shouldn’t be driving !_

_::: Derek ! I swear to god, get your head out of your furry ass and call back !_

**From- Malia**

_::: Derek we have 2 find him what if Theo got him again ???_

**From- Sheriff**

_::: Where is my son ? Scott has called and Stiles won’t pick up his phone._

Derek sighs and answers:

 

**To- Everyone**

_::: Stiles is fine. He’s at my loft. Don’t come._

He puts his phone back in his pocked and goes in the kitchen. Stiles’s smell of anger is still coming out in waves and it make Derek’s nose twitch. He tries to think of a way to calm the teenager, but can’t find one that wouldn’t piss him off even more. So he makes two cups of tea, takes a jar of honey and finds biscuits and chocolates that seem comestible, put it all on a tray and take it back to the couch. He puts it on the coffe table, and turns on the TV, deciding on an Avenger movie, hoping it would pick Stiles’s interest up and distract him. He has to wait for the end of the never-ending-movie for Stiles to finally clear his throat and move. Derek is impressed. And sad. For ADHD Stiles, not wriggling during one of his favourite movies and not making any sassy comments is a miracle. Which shows how much the situation has changed.

“Derek.” He says, and the attention of the werewolf is all his.

Stiles looks at him. Those furrowed eyebrows that used to be frowned at him, those green eyes that were so full of anger are now appeased. Calm, and Stiles could even read affection in them. His wolf had been tamed, and Derek appears serene. Stiles wonders if he could be a good alpha now. Certainly.

“What is your new anchor ?” He asks without thinking. Derek tenses, and Stiles grits his teeth.

 Well done Stiles. Ten out ten on the scale how-to-mess-up-fuking-easily.

But Derek regains his composture in a matter of second and answers while putting honey in his tea.

“That’s a pretty personal question Stiles. And I feel like you just want to change the subject.”

Stiles pulls a face. That’s a low blow, but he deserves it.

“First of all, I wanna say that I’m sorry for invading your space like that. I know a wolf’s den is private territory.”

Derek snorts.

“S’not like it’s the first time. And you’ll always be welcomed in here Stiles.”

Stiles is a little bit taken aback by this answer. He doesn’t know how to deal with this new Derek. The rip-your-throat-ou-with-my-teeth one, he could understand. He was used to it. But now that the roles were reversed and that he had become the uncivilized one, he had no idea how to react.

“Well, thanks.” He splutters.

Derek hums.

“How about you tell me what happened at school that made you leave in the middle of the lunch ?”

Stiles winces again.

“I got angry.”

Derek growl. Oh. He may be relaxed, but he still wasn’t patient.

“I went to eat with them, and Danny had taken my seat. Well, not that I had occupied it recently so it was normal that he had replaced me but… Whatever. So I approached them, Scott made room for me and Danny greeted me. He had his welcoming face on, like nothing had happened, whereas he hadn’t talked to me in months, because he believed Scott’s stupid rumors and...”

Stiles voice was grewing angry by the minute.

“And I realized that they are a bunch of hypocrites. They are acting like NOTHING happened. Maybe I deserve the way they treated me before. After all, and no matter what you or they say, I know I’m responsible for the Nogitsune thing. That I am guilty in a way for Donovan’s death. But what Theo did to me doesn’t change that. It doesn’t bring back any of the dead. It doesn’t erase what has been done. What I’ve done. They treat me better because I’ve been kidnapped. Not because they’ve forgiven me. THEY TREAT ME BETTER BECAUSE THEY FEEL SOORY FOR THEIRSELVES !” He suddenly shouts, startling Derek.

All his anger is back, and he desesperatly wants to punch something. Preferably someone.

“They care about me because they want to make theirselves feel better, feel less guilty. While they crushed me under my own guilt, making me deal with it on my own. They don’t assume what they’ve done, whereas they forced me to deal with my responsabilities. They made me PAY for it. And I CAN’T blame them. Because instead of fighting, I gave up. I let my self being crushed. I didn’t stand for my self. And if I had had an escape, a way to hide myself from those thoughts, like they do by treating me like I was their friend again, I would’ve done it. I would have HIDE. As an alternative, I cutted. I took too much adderall, I didn’t eat correctly. I treated my body as bad as I could, like it would wash my sins away. I’m as much a coward as they are.”

Stiles hadn’t realized that he had begin crying until Derek pulls him on his lap and surrounds him with his huge, warm arms. He jumps, still no liking human contact. He feels traped and tenses.

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re safe. You’re not alone anymore. I won’t let you down again Stiles. I’ll help you. No matter what you wanna do, I’ll be by your side.” Drek hushes him, trying to smooth him.

Stiles slowly relax, allowing himself to cry harder, sobs nearly chocking him. At this point, he doesn’t care anymore.

Derek Hale hugging him ? That was breathtaking, and if someone had told him monthes ago that it would happen, he would have ended up at Eichen House. Now? It’s comforting. It feels safe and right. So Stiles cries, Derek’s warmth around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter -may- see a confrontation between Stiles and Scott ! Sorry that it takes so long to come but I want to develop some character's feelings ^^ See you !


	10. OUTBURST 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait! School's horrible right now, and I really didn't have time to write... Anyway, I'll be in holidays soon so I'll write other chapters ;)  
> I hope this one was worth the wait! 
> 
> As usual, thanks for all kudos and feedback ! :) See you soon !

Stiles wakes up, confused and his ankle throbbing with pain, making him pay for the moves he had forced it on. He feels cold. He’s in Derek’s bed, but the werewolf is nowhere in sight. Stiles blushes. Since when was he allowed to cry his eyes out on Derek and then be carried in his bed? He feels tired, and wonders what could have awoke him. Then, he hears it. Furious whispers. So he rises up from the bed, and head towards the spiral stairs. He doesn’t know where his crutches are, so he calls out:

“Derek ?”

The whispers stop immediately and a second later, Derek appears down the stairs. He looks angry, but it doesn’t show in his tone when he answers:

“I’m sorry I woke you up. Wanna come down?”

Stiles nods, and a second later Derek is by his side, lifting him up in his arms.

Stiles whimpers in surprise:

“Hey! You could have just give me my crutches ! »

“It would have taken you forever to climb down. Add up to that your legendary clumsiness and your bad luck, and I would have find you dead at the bottom of the stairs.”

Stiles winces.

“Okay, You’ve got a point.” He mumbles.

Derek sets him down on the sofa and comes back seconds later, burying Stiles under pillows, plaids and food that he brings all at once. Stiles watches with amazement as Derek settles him in some kind of a nest.

“err, I  didn’t asked for that…” says Stiles with a little uncertainty.

“Yes but that way you won’t be bitching every five minute since you have everything you could ask for right in front of you, at reach.”

Derek looks so proud of himself that Stiles lets out a laugh. Then he completly freezes, his eyes narrowing with surprise. It’s the first time he laughes in months! Derek looks delighted and hands him the tv remote with a huge grin, very un-Hale like.

Stiles lets the werewolf drown in self-satisfaction and puts the TV on, settling for a crappy show, munching on some cookies. Derek sits next to the teenager, far enough for Stiles to be confortable, and near enough for the teen to feel his body heat. Frigging werewolfs. Stiles yawns and feels like sleeping again. He was always tired. He had nightmares. And even with Derek waking him up everytime he sensed one coming, he had this feeling of perpetual exhausion deep in his bones. He feels sick. He still had trouble eating. Maybe it explained why his body was always so weak. Nodding off, he almost missed the knocks on the door. He watches, half awake, how Derek bursts out of the couch and runs to the door, a threatening growl escaping his throat.

Derek throws the door open, and it slides with a horrible rasping.

“I told you not to come !” he roars, making Stiles jump out of the couch.

Outside, Scott and the rest of the pack are looking irritated or scared.

“You can’t prevent me from seeing my best friend! “ Scott shouts, flashing his alpha eyes.

Derek doesn’t move an inch. And snarls right at Scott’s face.

“What best friend ? you don’t even deserve to be his friend, so fuck off !”

“Stiles can speak for himself !” Scott shouts, pushing Derek away violently, and entering forcefully in the loft.

Derek howls in anger, Scott answering him with the same fury, but they suddenly stop, looking at Stiles. The teenager is up, arms clenched against his chest, looking at the two werewolf with fear as his heart speeds up.

“Stiles ! ” shouts Scott, moving towards before stopping dead on his tracks as Stiles flinches and takes a step back.

The scent of his anxiety is suturing the hair and the betas look uneasy, trying not to let their glowing eyes show.

“Stiles, are you alright?” asks Scott, and Stiles feels his anger come back, chasing away his fear.

“Yeah. Derek is right, you shouldn’t have come.” He mutters, and Scott dares to look surprised.

“What? Why ? what’s happening ? ”

« I can’t Scott. I can’t act like you. Like all of you. » He says, eyeing at the betas.

“ Like nothing happened. I can’t do that. I can’t bring my self to hate you, even if I know I should, but I can’t act like everything is in the past either.”

Scoot looks hurt, and frowns.

“So what? You wanna tell us that we are responsible for everything now? For Donovan too?” he growls.

Derek bares his fangs, but Stiles doesn’t let himself be impressed.

“I never said that. I know what I did. I just feel like you all wanna act like nothing happened, without even trying to say you are sorry.”

“I did tell you I was sorry!” shouts Scoot, now becoming angry.

“You didn’t mean it.”

“And YOU? Are YOU sorry ? »

« Of course I am ! » shouts Stiles. “I had plenty of time to regret it if you wanna know! I paid the price of my errors don’t you think? What I can’t stand is how easy it is for you ! You made me pay for it yourself!”

“What yo really dislike in the end, what you just can’t accept is the fact that we trusted him more than you !”

The silence falls on the group, heavy and thick, and Scott seems to instantly regret what he said, and Derek looks like he would rip his throath out in seconds.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can’t stand this, because it’s the reason why we’re at this point now. If you had trusted me, you would have at least listened to me instead of Theo, a VERY recent pack member. You trusted a guy you’d met weeks ago against your best friend whom you’ve known all your life. If my father trusted me, he would have listened to me more than you, and maybe he wouldn’t have acted as if I never existed for more than a month. If the pack trusted me, maybe Theo wouldn’t have get me. But you didn’t. No one did apart from Derek, a guy who was supposed to hate my guts, but he did trusted me because he remembered everything I did for every fucking one of you, and understood I wasn’t the kind of people who would go on a rampage and kill mindlessly.”

“You did though.” Scott lets escape, and he claps his hand against his mouth. Derek growls this time.

“This is what it is about Scott ? The Nogitsune? I can undo this. I wished I had died with it. But I didn’t. I guess It’s my biggest mistake. I fought with all my might but it was never enough. I was weak. You can’t know how much I hate myself for that. I know that a lot of people are dead because of me. I know I hurted you, Kira, everyone, and that Allison and Aiden died because of me. But I never WANTED it !”

“It happened though!”

“And I paid for it. So now what ? We’re even? Or maybe you want to kill me so that my debts will be repaid.” Stiles shakes his head, and continues with a broken voice.

“I never wanted her to die you know? Even when she was the reason we drifted apart since you were always with her, even at those moments I didn’t hate her. She was my friend too.” He begins to cry.

“Even though I’m not the one who killed her, it’s still my fault. I wish I could take her place. I wish I had died instead of her!”

“Stiles, I…” begins Scott, as if knowing he had gone too far.

 “Get out of here Scott, and take your pack with you.”

“I…”

“GET THE HELL OUT OH THIS PLACE SCOTT MC CALL !” Shouts Stiles.

“You have to stop this attitude if you want us to make things better! How can we do that if you refuse to talk to us!” Lydia says, looking half annoyed, half worried.

This sets Stiles off the edge.

“IF I REFUSE TO TALK TO YOU? BUT WHO REFUSED TO TALK TO ME DURING WEEKS? WHO BEHAVE AS IF I NEVER EXISTED? AS IF THE FACT THAT I WASN’T DEAD WAS UNFORGIVABLE? WHO REFUSED FOR ME TO EXPLAIN OR APPOLOGIZE? AND YOU DARE TO TELL ME THAT I’M NOT BEHAVING THE RIGHT WAY? IS IT MY FAULT IF YOU DIDN’T LISTENED TO ME WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT THEO WAS UNTHRUSTWROTHY ?  MY FAULT IF YOU TRUSTED HIM MORE THAN ME?  IS IT MY FAULT ???” Stiles shouts, his fists clenched at his side.

No one dares to move after this outburst. Even Derek has sagged on himself.

“Stiles, we have to…”

Stiles takes a huge breath and lets out a terrifying scream:

“GET OUT !”

Derek’s ears hurted.

Scott looks at him one last time before turning around, the whole pack running after him, calling his name.

Derek closes the door, looking shyly at the teen.

“do you want me to get out too?”

Stiles grunts, and settles back on the couch before answering.

“it’s your house. I wouldn’t dare.”

Derek nods, and sits next to him.

He waits a little before saying gently:

“I’m proud of you.”

Stiles lets a small smile bring his lips up.

“Do you feel better now?”

Stiles shrugs.

“No. My throat hurts, and I’m still mad.”

Derek hums sympatically.

“I don’t know how I will archieve that.” Stiles sighs.

“Archieve what?”

“Forgiving them.”

 


End file.
